DOROTHY 
BROOKE'S 
VACATION 


a 


FRANCES 


CAMPBf 


SPARHAWK 


a,  p. 


BOOKS  BY 
FRANCES  C.  SPARHAWK 

DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  SCHOOL  DAYS 
Illustrated,  8vo,  {loth.     $1,50 

DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 
Illustrated,  8vo,  cloth, 


LIFE  OF  LINCOLN  FOR  BOYS 

Illustrated,  12  mo,  cloth  .    ?J  cents 

THOMAS  Y.  CROWELL  &  COMPANY 
NEW    YORK 


UNIV.  OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELED 


Dorothy  Brooke's 
Vacation 


BY 


FRANCES  CAMPBELL  SPARHAWK 

Author  of '" Dorothy  Brooke's  School  Days" 


ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 
FRANK  T.  MERRILL 


NEW    YORK 

THOMAS  Y.  CROWELL  &  CO. 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1910, 

BY  THOMAS  Y.  CROWELL  &  CO. 
Second  Edition 


To 
A.  L.  R.  AND  A.  R.  L. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  A   YEAR-OLD   PROMISE I 

II.  PLANNING 12 

III.  SHALL  SHE  BAR  HER  OUT?    ....  22 

IV.  OVER  THE  HILLS  AND  FAR  AWAY     .     .  33 
V.  SOUNDS  IN  THE  NIGHT 43 

VI.  Two  PERFECT  DAYS 52 

VII.  A  PICNIC  AND  A  DISASTER     .     ,     .     .  64 

VIII.  DISTRESSING  NEWS     ......  75 

IX.  RESCUE   AND   REWARD     .      .     .    ..     ,  87 

X.  WHAT  DOROTHY  DARED    .....  99 

XL  A   RAINY   DAY      .      ......  107 

XII.  WHERE  WAS  THE  MOTOR  CAR?  .     « .    ;  117 

XIII.  A  TINY  WANDERER     ...      ...  129 

XIV.  BRAVELY  DONE  !     .     .     .     .     .     .     .  141 

XV.  ANXIETIES 154 

XVI.  KEEN   WITS     .      .      .     *     •     •     -     -  l66 

XVII.  How   REX  PUT   IT 180 

XVIII.  HONK!   HONK! 193 

XIX.  PRISCY  SPEAKS 205 

XX.  A  FRANTIC  MOTHER 217 

XXI.  FACE  TO  FACE  AGAIN 227 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXII.  NED  SIDES  WITH  DOROTHY     ......  239 

XXIII.  A  GOOD  DAY'S  WORK     .     .     ...    ;.,    m  251 

XXIV.  JIMMY  HAS  AN  IDEA    .     .     .     .     ,.     .  261 
XXV.  "TAKING  IT  FOR  GRANTED"      .     ...     .  273 

XXVI.  DOROTHY'S  LETTER     .      .      ..:..,.  291 

XXVII.  A  GREAT  EXCITEMENT     .     .     .     .     .  296 

XXVIII.  MONSIEUR  L'IMPREVU 305 

XXIX.  VICTORY ,     ...  314 

XXX.  READY  FOR  WORK  AGAIN     ....  325 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  OH,  YOU  LOOK  COMFORTABLE  ENOUGH  "    Frontispiece 

PAGE 
"ARE    YOU    QUITE    SURE    THAT    NO    ACCIDENT    WILL 

HAPPEN  ?  " 36 

A  PRIZE  FOR  THE  VIVISECTIONIST 80 

DOROTHY    KNELT    BESIDE   JIMMY     ......  148 

CATCHING   UP   BAB,    HE   PLACED   HER   UPON   HIS 

SHOULDER 202 

CERTAINLY  HE  WAS  NO  STRANGER  TO  HER     .     .  236 

DEEPLY  OCCUPIED  WITH  THE  PLAY     .     .     .     .     .  252 

"On,  NO,  NO!    DON'T  GO!    I  BEG  YOU  WILL  NOT 

GO    UP" 304 


Dorothy  Brooke's  Vacation 


A   YEAR-OLD ,  PROMISE 

To  Dorothy  Brooke  that  June  morning  it  seemed 
more  summer  out  in  the  hammock  under  the  big  elms 
than  anywhere  else.  On  her  right  the  lawn,  still 
fresh  with  frequent  rains,  stretched  away  in  sunshine 
broken  by  the  shadows  of  great  trees,  until  in  the  dis- 
tance the  land  dipped  and  then  rose  again,  climbing 
to  hills  on  the  horizon.  Where  it  dipped,  a  rivulet 
made  its  way  through  brakes  and  sedgy  grasses  from 
the  distant  lake  revealed  by  the  flash  of  its  waters  in 
the  sunlight,  to  the  river  seen  from  the  terrace  of  the 
stately  and  beautiful  house  which  stood  on  the  rising 
ground  behind  the  elms.  The  driveway  winding  up 
from  the  road,  at  every  turn  opened  a  vista  to  delight 
the  eye. 

To  Dorothy,  after  her  long  absence,  her  home  had 
never  seemed  so  full  of  charm,  nor  her  loved  ones 
quite  so  dear.  The  odor  of  the  pine  needles  came  to 
her  inspiringly  from  the  group  of  trees  near  by,  the 
breath  of  roses  floated  over  from  the  garden  beside 
the  house,  and  the  sky  as  she  gazed  up  at  it  through 
the  softly  moving  leaves  over  her  head  had  never 
looked  to  her  so  blue.  Her  dark  eyes  were  full  of  the 


2   DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

sunshine  of  her  heart  as  happy  memories  of  simple 
pleasures  mingled  with  visions  of  the  future  as  bril- 
liant as  the  light  and  as  warm  and  joyous  as  the 
season. 

Suddenly,  the  clear  notes  of  a  song-sparrow  sounded 
in  a  maple  near  by  and  the  exquisite  tones  of  a  wood 
thrush  took  up  the  challenge. 

Dorothy  lilted  a  few  notes  after  each,  and  then 
lay  listening  to  songs  much  more  perfect  than  she 
could  make  them.  These  notes  brought  her  memories 
of  the  most  brilliant  and  successful  day  of  her  past 
school  year,  of  the  crowd  of  girls  who  had  shared  her 
triumph,  and  the  audience  who  had  so  heartily  ap- 
plauded it.  With  the  serene  assurance  of  youth,  she 
decided  that  in  days  to  come  there  should  be  many 
more  such  triumphs. 

A  very  different  sound  rudely  interrupted  her  bril- 
liant fancies.  "  Honk !  honk ! "  hooted  a  motor  car 
coming  up  the  road.  "  Honk !  honk !  "  it  hooted  once 
more  as  it  turned  in  at  the  gate,  its  noisy  energy 
lending  a  not  unpleasant  human  element  to  the  still 
life  of  the  scene.  Dorothy  lifted  her  head  and  caught 
glimpses  of  the  car  as  it  bowled  up  the  driveway. 

"  He's  come  back  early,"  ran  her  thoughts.  "  I 
wonder  if  he  got  hungry?  Motoring  is  awfully  hun- 
gry work."  And  with  a  smile  she  tried  to  return  to 
her  day  dreams. 

But  visions  of  the  ideal  had  been  hopelessly  shat- 
tered by  the  blatant  reality  of  a  motor-car  hoot,  the 
songs  of  the  birds  had  ceased,  and  Dorothy's  thoughts 
turned  to  the  present  and  as  to  how  she  could  get  the 


A   YEAR-OLD    PROMISE  3 

most  fun  out  of  her  vacation ;  and,  especially,  how  she 
was  going  to  make  her  coming  guests  enjoy  it  best. 
As  she  was  deep  in  plans  of  drive  and  sail  and  picnic 
and  party,  a  joyous  bark  was  borne  toward  her,  and 
a  great  dog,  still  uttering  his  delight  at  having  learned 
the  whereabouts  of  his  young  mistress,  pushed  up 
under  her  hand  and  with  his  big  paws  upstretched 
threatened  to  tip  her  out  of  the  hammock. 

"Come  and  help  me  plan,  Nemo,"  she  laughed, 
patting  him.  "  Now,  down,  down,  sir,  like  a  fine 
fellow,  and  speak  whenever  you  have  a  good  idea." 

"And  may  I  speak,  too,  whenever  I  have  a  good 
idea  ?  Then  I  shall  talk  all  the  time,"  laughed  a  voice, 
as  its  owner  came  leisurely  down  the  path  from  the 
house,  following  his  four-footed  companion. 

"  Oh,  Rex,  how  lovely !  Do  come  and  help  me 
plan;  and  I'll  give  you  half  the  hammock."  And 
the  speaker's  beautiful  hand  upreared  and  her  feet 
sought  the  ground  with  an  agility  which  proved  mind 
and  muscles  in  good  order. 

"  No,  no ;  '  keep  yer  settinY  as  old  Farmer  Moody 
(used  to  say."  And  the  newcomer  tipped  the  willing 
Dorothy  back  into  her  luxurious  pose  and  seated  him- 
self on  the  root  of  the  elm  tree  next  her  hammock, 
and  leaning  against  its  trunk,  sent  a  quizzical  glance 
at  his  sister.  "Well,  what  now,  Dbro?"  he  asked. 
"Yesterday  it  was  unpacking  and  putting  to  rights 
after  your  arrival  of  the  night  before.  I  thought 
you  were  going  to  rest  to-day." 

"And,  pray,  what  am  I  doing  now?" 

"  Oh,  you  look  comfortable  enough.    But  you  must 


4   DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

be  hard  up  for  ideas  when  you  ask  Nemo  to  con- 
tribute." 

The  girl's  laugh  rang  out  musically.  "  That  shows 
my  thoughts  were  not  deep,"  she  returned.  "  But,  I 
assure  you,  they're  important.  I  was  trying  to  study 
out  the  best  things  to  do  to  entertain  the  girls." 

"  Oh,  the  girls !  "  Rex  Brooke's  tone  was  indiffer- 
ent enough;  but  he  shot  a  keen  glance  at  his  sister's 
face  as  it  turned  toward  him.  It  was  a  face  good 
to  look  upon,  full  of  strength  and  sweetness,  with 
energy,  or  mirth,  or  strong  emotion  varying  its  ex- 
pression and  giving  new  charm  to  features  in  them- 
selves fine.  The  delicate  nose,  not  too  small  for  char- 
acter and  showing  both  a  spirit  of  daring  and  a  lit- 
erary taste;  the  mouth  with  its  lovely  curves,  full, 
yet  not  too  full  to  tighten  at  need  into  that  decision 
which  had  carried  its  owner  through  the  few  trials 
which  had  thus  far  befallen  her;  the  chin  round  and 
firm;  the  hair  brown  with  golden  lights  in  the  sun- 
shine and  waving  a  little  on  a  noble  brow;  the  com- 
plexion clear  and  fine,  yet  one  on  which  the  sun  had 
often  lingered  lovingly,  and  the  eyes  dark  brown,  very 
clear,  bright  without  a  hint  of  sharpness,  quick  to 
sparkle  with  mirth  or  soften  to  tenderness,  or,  if  need 
be,  to  command  with  power.  "  What  girls,  Doro  ?  " 
Rex  went  on,  as  her  eyes  fastened  themselves  upon 
his  with  amusement. 

"  No,  no,  Rex.  That  won't  pass  muster.  You 
only  want  to  hear  me  say  the  names  over  again  to 
be  sure  that  the  one  you  want  is  among  them.  Out 
with  it,  now." 


A   YEAR-OLD    PROMISE  5 

He  laughed.  "  It's  too  funny  you  think  I'm  afraid 
to  mention  the  fine-looking  girl  who  is  so  capable  and 
so  musical  and  engineered  your  play  to  its  success; 
she's  the  one  I  mean.  Her  name  is  '  Bromley/  isn't 
it?" 

"Correct!"  retorted  Dorothy,  assuming  a  school- 
marm  air.  "  I'm  glad  you  like  her,  Rex." 

"  And  who  are  the  others  ?  "  he  asked.  "  You  said 
'girls/" 

"  Priscy  Pell,  my  room-mate,  you  remember.  She's 
a  year  younger  than  I  am;  but  Lulu  Bromley  is  five 
months  older,  and  Grace  Longley  two  months  older 
than  I.  Priscy  is  the  daughter  of  the  famous  Colonel 
Pell.  That  may  sound  pleasant,  but  it's  not — consid- 
ering what  her  father  has  been  to  her." 

"What  has  he  been,  Doro?" 

"  Nothing — except  the  man  to  foot  her  bills." 

"Well,  now,  that's  something.  A  good  many 
women  would  think  it  a  great  deal." 

But  there  was  no  mirth  in  the  look  that  Dorothy 
fastened  upon  him. 

"  What  if  that  was  all  our  father  was  to  us,  Rex  ?  " 
she  cried.  "  We  might  do  as  we  pleased  if  we  didn't 
bother  him?" 

"Whew!  As  bad  as  that!  Why,  she  must  be  a 
regular  guy  and  he's  ashamed  of  her.  Is  she,  now? 
Are  you  bringing  a  girl  like  that  here,  with  Miss 
Bromley?" 

"  So,  Priscy  Pell  may  be  good  enough  to  be  my 
room-mate  for  months,  but  she's  not  good  enough  to 
visit  with  Lulu  Bromley." 


6   DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"  You're  too  sharp,  Doro.  I'm  only  trying  to  get 
it  out  of  you  why  her  father  treats  her  so?  Step- 
mother in  the  case?" 

"  Yes,"  said  his  sister.  "  But  he  treated  her  badly 
before  the  step-mother  existed." 

"She  was  being  thought  about  though,  I  imagine. 
Well,  that's  the  fairy-tale  girl — wicked  step-mother, 
and  so  forth.  Only  Priscy's  not  beautiful  like  all 
abused  girls  in  fairy  tales." 

"Mr.  Norcross  doesn't  think  her  a  'guy*  by  any 
means,"  retorted  Dorothy  with  a  flash  in  her  eyes. 

"Oho!  Is  that  the  one?  I've  seen  her.  The  girl 
with  auburn  hair?  The  one  we  met  at  the  exhibition? 
Why,  she's  a  swell!  What's  out  with  her?" 

"  She's  out  of  a  home,  poor  little  thing.  And  I 
want  her  to  have  the  best  time  she  can  here  this 
summer  and  not  think  of  her  father  once.  Don't 
mention  him  to  her,  will  you  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed ! "  said  Rex,  who  was  very  good- 
hearted,  and  who,  if  he  had  not  quite  so  many  brains 
as  his  sister,  had  enough  to  get  on  very  well  in  the 
world.  "I'll  pretend  she  comes  from  the  fishermen 
Pells  whom  we  found  that  year  at  Long  Branch,  you 
remember." 

Dorothy  laughed  with  him  at  the  memory  of  the 
old,  slab-sided  fisherman  and  his  queer  family  who  a 
few  years  before  had  added  to  their  entertainment  at 
a  summer  hotel.  "  She  will  never  know  them,"  pur- 
sued Rex,  "  and  it  will  save  her  feelings,  you  see. 
It's  embarrassing  to  treat  a  girl  as  if  she  hadn't  a 
father,  when  she  has." 


A    YEAR-OLD   PROMISE  7 

"  I  wish  I  knew  which  is  the  teasing  planet,  Rex 
Brooke ;  you  were  born  under  it.  But  I'll  trust  you." 
And  her  gaze  turned  with  loving  confidence  upon  the 
young  fellow,  who  was  over  three  years  her  senior; 
for  Dorothy  was  not  quite  sixteen  and  Rex  would  be 
twenty  on  his  next  birthday,  nine  months  off.  Also, 
he  had  been  at  college  a  year,  which  made  him  a 
good  deal  wiser,  in  his  sister's  estimation,  than  was 
she  who  had  studied  even  harder  at  school.  But  col- 
lege was  coming  to  her,  too,  some  day,  or,  rather,  she 
was  going  to  it.  "  You  don't  ask  me  who  the  other 
girl  is  ?  "  she  said  the  next  moment. 

"I  know.  It's  the  amiable,  delectable,  infallible, 
irresistible  Grace,  sister  of  the  wonderful  genius  who 
helped  you  out  with  your  play  for  the  exhibition." 

"  Yes,  he  did !  And  he's  going  to  help  me  out  with 
other  plays  some  day,  Rex,  however  you  laugh  at 
him ! "  cried  Dorothy,  her  face  flushing  and  her  eyes 
flashing.  "  We're  going  to  write  plays  together  some 
time,  when  I'm  wise  enough  for  it." 

Her  hearer  whistled.  "  Has  it  got  so  far  as  that?  " 
he  asked  with  a  real  interest  in  his  tone. 

"  Everybody  says  he  has  done  wonderfully  for  his 
age,"  went  on  Dorothy.  "  He's  only  about  eighteen. 
He  hasn't  produced  any  plays  yet,  of  course;  but  he 
has  written  some  good  ones,  better  judges  than  I  say 
so.  And  if  you  were  proud  of  me  at  exhibition — as 
you  said — you  ought  to  be  grateful  to  him." 

"I  don't  believe  I  am,"  returned  the  other.  "It's 
not  a  great  favor  to  help  you;  anybody  who  had  the 
chance  would  be  glad  to  do  it.  And  then,  if  you're 


8   DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

going  in  for  gratitude,  Doro,  how  about  the  sweet 
singer  of  Hosmer  Hall — Miss  Bromley — and  all  the 
girls  she  trained  for  your  play?" 

"  I'm  not  anxious  as  to  your  failing  in  gratitude  to 
her,"  laughed  his  sister. 

"When  are  they  coming?"  pursued  the  other. 

"Priscy  comes  first,  in  ten  days;  then  Lulu,  less 
than  a  week  later,  and  Grace  Longley  the  day  after 
Lulu." 

"  How  considerate  in  them  not  to  come  all  together ! 
Three  such  charmers  all  in  a  bunch  would  floor  your 
poor,  light-headed  brother!  Now,  I  shall  be  able  to 
brace  up,  taking  them  separately.  I  wish  Miss  Brom- 
ley were  going  to  have  the  first  week.  But  then,  per- 
haps by  the  time  she  arrives  Priscy  will  have  out- 
rivalled  her." 

"  Why  can't  you  keep  in  earnest  five  minutes  to- 
gether?" 

"I  am  in  earnest.    Who  knows?" 

"Then  be  enough  in  earnest  to  go  over  with  me 
some  of  the  things  we  can  do  to  entertain  the  girls. 
You  see,  we're  all  so  well  acquainted — you'll  get  so 
in  five  minutes'  talk,  you  always  do  with  people;  it's 
not  as  if  we  had  strangers  and  didn't  know  where  to 

put  them "  Suddenly,  her  whole  manner  changed. 

"Oh,  Rex  Brooke,  what  have  I  done!  What  have  I 
done ! "  she  cried  in  distress.  "  I  forgot  everything 
about  it  until  this  minute  when  I  said  there  would  be 
no  stranger.  Last  summer  when  mother  and  I  were 
boarding  at  the  Hewes  farm,  I  invited  Rose  Hewes  to 
make  me  a  week's  visit  early  this  summer — she  can't 


A    YEAR-OLD    PROMISE  9 

come  the  last  of  the  season.  I  promised  to  write  and 
invite  her,  that  is,  to  set  the  time,  mother  said  I  might, 
and  I  pitied  the  poor  thing,  she  had  to  work  so  hard 
— and  now  she  will  be  the  stranger,  the  interloper ! " 

"  I  should  say  so !  Little  scullery  maid,  isn't  she  ? 
What  possessed  you,  Doro?  Your  philanthropy  ran 
away  with  you !  I'm  afraid  it  will  a  good  many  times 
in  your  life,  my  child.  What!  Going  in  to  consult 
the  mater?  Then,  you're  done  for.  She'll  never  let 
you  off  a  bargain;  she  believes  like  the  man  in  the 
Bible  who  swears  to  his  own  hurt  and  changes  not. 
Well,  go  and  have  it  over — and  the  visit  over, 
too." 

For  Dorothy  had  sprung  up,  her  face  flushed  and 
tears  of  disappointment  in  her  eyes;  and  promising 
to  return,  she  sped  up  the  path  into  the  house. 

To  Mrs.  Brooke  on  the  veranda  with  a  guest  who 
was  spending  a  few  days  with  her,  Dorothy  stated 
her  forgotten  promise  and  her  dismay  at  it  and  at 
the  unwelcome  element  that  would,  she  feared,  do 
much  to  spoil  the  enjoyment  of  her  other  guests. 
"  She  is  very  nice,  a  dear,  good  girl,"  she  explained 
to  her  mother's  guest;  "but  the  others  don't  know 
her  at  all." 

"  A  promise  made  a  whole  year  ago ! "  cried  the 
guest.  "  What  nonsense  to  think  of  keeping  it,  Doro- 
thy! Let  it  slide,  my  dear."  A  flash  of  scorn,  in- 
stantly suppressed,  shot  into  the  girl's  eyes.  "  She 
will  think  you  have  forgotten  it,"  continued  the 
speaker ;  "  and  perhaps  she  has  by  this  time." 

Dorothy  remembered  too  well  the  glow  of  delight 


JO   DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

in  the  girl's  face  at  the  promise  to  imagine  that  she 
had  forgotten  it.  Her  mother  looked  up. 

"  It  won't  spoil  Rose  Hewes'  enjoyment  to  have  the 
other  girls  here,"  she  said  quietly.  "  And  if  you  want 
a  part  of  their  visit  for  yourself  and  them  alone,  why 
not  ask  Rose  to  come  in  two  or  three  days?  You 
may  be  sure  she  has  been  expecting  the  invitation. 
You  spoke  to  her  of  asking  her  for  a  week,  didn't 
you?" 

Dorothy  assented;  and  running  up  to  her  own 
room,  she  scribbled  her  invitation  and  dropped  it  into 
the  box  in  the  hall,  to  be  posted  by  the  coachman 
when  he  drove  into  town  for  Mr.  Brooke. 

"  I've  been  and  gone  and  done  it ! "  she  reported 
to  Rex  as  she  returned  with  slow  steps  to  the  ham- 
mock. 

"And,  no  doubt,  your  mind  is  relieved,"  he  an- 
swered. "It  was  funny  the  mater  hadn't  remem- 
bered it." 

"  She  had.  But  she  thought  I  would  come  to  it 
without  being  nagged;  if  I  had  not,  she  would  have 
reminded  me." 

"  Not  a  doubt  of  it,  Doro.  Well,  you've  done  your 
duty ;  everybody  says  there's  great  joy  in  that.  Any- 
way, one  doesn't  like  to  get  out  of  things  by  crawling. 
We'll  put  the  little  scullery  maid  in  the  swim,  and  see 
what  she  will  do." 

But  after  Dorothy  had  left  him,  he  made  a  wry 
face. 

Three  days  later  he  handed  his  sister  a  letter  from 
the  mail  just  arrived.  "Now  let  us  hear  when  the 


A    YEAR-OLD    PROMISE  II 

little  scullery  maid  is  to  come  upon  the  scene,"  he 
said. 

"  She's  not  to  come  at  all,"  announced  Dorothy. 
"  She  is  so  sorry — so  very  sorry  that  she  can't  come." 

"  Hurrah ! "  shouted  Rex.  "  Now,  let's  get  on  with 
our  plans." 

Dorothy  was  afraid  that  her  heart  echoed  his  re- 
joicing. But  she  seemed  to  see  poor  Rose's  sad  face 
before  her  all  day. 

Then  she  forgot  it  in  anticipations  of  her  own 
pleasure. 


II 

PLANNING 

"  Miss  BROMLEY  is  the  prettiest,"  said  Olive,  Doro- 
thy's thirteen-year-old  sister. 

"Don't  know  about  her  being  prettiest,"  retorted 
Harry.  "Just  look  at  Miss  Pell  when  she  laughs; 
she  has  the  cunningest  dimples  you  ever  saw,  and  she 
likes  fun  as  well  as  Dorothy  does." 

"  'F  they'd  let  us  talk  slang  in  this  family,"  re- 
turned Olive  with  a  laugh,  "I'd  say  Dorothy  and 
Priscy  made  a  team.  But  every  once  in  a  while  a 
sad  look  comes  into  her  face;  then  she  sends  it  away 
again,  quick." 

"Oh,  hers  is  so  little,  it  doesn't  count,"  said  the 
boy.  "  Miss  Knowles  is  the  one  for  the  dumps.  Just 
look  at  her  whenever  nobody's  making  fun  or  she 
isn't  trying  to  be  funny  herself.  I  saw  her  one  day 
out  under  the  pine  trees,  and  she  was  downright  cry- 
ing. What's  the  matter  with  her,  Olive?" 

"  I  b'lieve  she's  in  love  with  somebody  who's  gone 
off.  Mamma  was  telling  Dorothy,  but  she  stopped 
when  I  came  in ;  perhaps  she  thinks  I'd  tell." 

"Oh,  no,  I  guess  she  thinks  you're  too  young," 
returned  Harry,  who,  being  the  youngest  of  the  fam- 
ily, and  only  ten,  felt  somewhat  out  of  things  and 
liked  to  remind  Olive  that  she  ranked  with  him  in- 
stead of  with  the  grown-ups. 

12 


PLANNING  13 

"  Pooh ! "  answered  the  other  with  a  toss  of  her 
head.  "  In  two  years  I  shall  be  as  old  as  Dorothy 
when  she  went  off  to  boarding  school,  and  I  shall  go, 
too;  it  isn't  that.  Maybe  she'd  said  all  she  had  to 
say.  Anyway,  I'm  sorry  for  Miss  Knowles;  it  must 
be  awfully  hard  to  be  in  love  and  not  have  the  man 
round;  and  she's  pretty  and  sweet;  but  she's  awfully 
queer  sometimes." 

"  If  you  talk  of  sweet,"  cried  Harry,  "  I'll  tell  you 
who's  the  loveliest  one  here — next  to  our  Doro,  of 
course — it's  that  dear  Grace  Longley.  Do  you  know 
what  she  did  yesterday?  I  wanted  to  go  on  an  auto 
ride  the  worst  way,  somehow,  when  I  saw  the  others 
going;  it  got  into  my  head,  so,  I  s'pose  I  showed  it. 
And,  someway,  Miss  Longley — I  call  her  *  Grace ' — 
caught  on.  She  wouldn't  go,  though  I  knew  she'd 
been  expecting  to;  she  said  she'd  rather  go  fishing 
with  me  in  the  creek  if  I'd  like.  Like!  So  Miss 
Knowles  took  her  place,  and  Grace  and  I  had  the 
jolliest  time  all  the  morning." 

"  Did  you  catch  any  fish  ?  "  inquired  practical  Olive. 

"  N — o,"  admitted  Harry.  "  But  it  was  fun  all  the 
same ;  and  when  we  were  waiting  for  the  fish  to  bite, 
she  told  me  stories;  she  told  me  lovely  things  about 
Dorothy.  Olive,  I  really  think  she  loves  her  very 
much.  And  then  in  the  afternoon,  you  know,  Rex 
took  us  both  a  good  spin.  Do  you  s'pose  she  told 
him?" 

"  Rex  is  a  fair  guesser  himself,"  laughed  the  girl. 
"  But,  Harry,  I  can  see  Dorothy  is  worried ;  she's 
afraid  the  girls  won't  have  a  good  enough  time;  she 


14        DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

wants  to  get  up  something  new,  and  she  can't  think 
of  anything  to  suit  her." 

"Pooh!  pooh!"  retorted  Harry.  "Nothing  the 
matter  with  her  brains !  Rex  says  if  you  try  too  hard, 
you  don't  get  there.  Perhaps  she's  doing  that.  Rex 
laughed  at  her  and  told  her  she  was  hunting  an  idea 
too  hard  this  hot  weather.  But  she'll  catch  it,"  he 
asserted  confidently. 

He  was  right,  although,  as  he  had  not  dreamed  of 
doing,  he  himself  assisted  in  the  capture. 

That  same  hot  evening  early  in  July  a  gay  party  sat 
on  the  great  veranda  in  the  moonlight.  They  were 
none  the  less  merry  because  Judge  Brooke  and  his 
wife  were  there  and  sometimes  led  in  the  fun.  Rex  on 
the  upper  step,  his  head  against  the  pillar,  looked  up 
as  he  talked,  now  at  Grace  Longley,  now  at  Lulu 
Bromley,  as  they  sat  above  him.  Grace  turned  every 
now  and  then  to  the  two  youngest  of  the  party  as 
these  sat  on  the  floor  of  the  veranda,  Olive  resting 
against  the  railing  and  Harry's  arm  on  her  shoulder. 
Priscy  Pell  at  a  little  distance  was  talking  vivaciously 
to  Mrs.  Brooke,  and  Miss  Knowles  and  the  Judge 
were  listening.  Dorothy  was  beyond  and  apart. 
Lively  talk  and  banter  and  laughter  went  on  for  a 
while,  and  then  Rex  cried: 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Doro?  You've  not 
spoken  a  word  for  ten  minutes.  It  must  be  very  se- 
rious." 

Dorothy's  smile,  caught  as  the  moonlight  shone  on 
her  face,  was  perfunctory,  and  she  still  said  nothing. 

"  She  is  asking  the  question  that  the  little  girl  in 


PLANNING  15 

Victor  Hugo's  story  did,  only  with  a  change  in  the 
tense,"  laughed  her  father.  And  he  told  of  the  two 
little  school  girls  who  had  been  studying  their  history 
lesson.  At  last  one  handed  her  book  to  the  other. 
" ( Ask  me  a  question  anywhere/  she  said,  '  and  I  can 
answer  it/  The  other  little  girl  looked  thoughtfully 
down  the  list  of  questions,  then  she  turned  to  her 
companion.  'What  happened  next?'  she  asked. 
Dorothy  is  varying  this  to  the  future  tense,  as  I  said, 
and  asking :  '  What  is  going  to  happen  next  ? ' ' 

As  laughter  over  the  judge's  story  subsided: 
"  Why  don't  you  take  a  great  big  auto  ride,  a  big,  big 
one,  and  be  done  with  it  ?  "  cried  Harry,  whose  dream 
of  pleasure  was  somewhat  like  Puck's  girdle  round 
the  earth  in  forty  minutes. 

Dorothy  sprang  up.  "  The  very  thing,  Harry,  you 
brilliant  boy !  We'll  have  a  motor-car  trip ! " 

"A  trip  in  my  machine !  "  laughed  Rex. 

"  To  give  you  the  great  privilege  of  taking  us ! " 
retorted  his  sister.  "I  mean,  we'll  go  if  mother  and 
father  will  say  'yes/  and  Rex  will  take  us." 

"  Your  father  does  if  your  mother  will  go  with 
you,"  returned  Mr.  Brooke. 

"  It's  a  splendid  idea ! "  the  girl  went  on,  warming 
with  the  quick -coming  suggestions  it  had  brought  her. 
"  We  should  need  two  motor  cars,  but  we  could  keep 
together  and  be  one  party  all  the  time.  And  we  could 
go — well,  where  can  we  go?  But  it's  easy  to  decide 
that." 

"Anywhere  over  the  hills  and  far  away,"  piped 
Harry,  elated  that  his  thought  had  been  appreciated. 


16        DOROTHY    BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"  And  when  shall  we  start,  Rex  ?  Can't  you  go 
straight  off?"  inquired  Dorothy. 

"  Not  to-night,  Doro." 

"  No,  Mr.  Tease ;  but  in  a  day  or  two,  as  soon  as 
father  or  you  can  find  a  suitable  motor  car  and 
chauffeur." 

"  I'm  afraid  you're  off  a  little  too  soon,  Dorothy," 
interrupted  Mrs.  Brooke.  "I'm  very  sorry,  indeed, 
that  I  can't  go  on  such  an  excursion  this  summer;  it 
would  be  delightful." 

"  And  it  would  do  you  so  much  good,  mamma," 
cried  Olive  unselfishly,  for  she  hated  to  have  her 
mother  away  from  home. 

"  But  it  would  be  hardly  the  thing  to  run  off  and 
leave  our  guests  to  take  care  of  themselves,"  returned 
Mrs.  Brooke;  "and  the  house  will  be  more  or  less 
full  all  summer;  some  of  your  father's  friends  are 
coming,  and  some  of  mine.  If  it  were  not  for  that, 
I  should  enjoy  a  trip  very  much." 

"Why  not  go  all  day  excursions  and  come  home 
at  night  ?  "  suggested  the  judge,  watching  regretfully 
the  falling  of  his  daughter's  countenance. 

But  Dorothy  shook  her  head,  and  Rex  cried :  "  We 
should  be  like  a  child  tied  with  a  string  and  pulled 
back  by  the  nurse  every  time  it  had  got  to  the  end  of 
its  tether — no  fun  at  all!  Harry  has  the  right  of  it. 
It's  '  over  the  hills  and  far  away.' ' 

"  Perhaps,  if  you  would  like  it,"  began  Grace  tim- 
idly, "seeing  that  no  other  chaperon  had  been  pro- 
posed, my  mother  might  go  with  us;  I  don't  know 
about  our  having  guests  quite  yet ;  she  and  papa  were 


PLANNING  17 

going  on  a  pleasure  trip,  but  he  had  to  go  out  West 
suddenly  on  business.  So,  perhaps,  mamma  would 
go  with  us,  if  you  want  her." 

"  If  we  want  her! "  cried  Dorothy  in  delight. 
"  Why,  Grace,  it  would  be  perfectly  lovely — if  you 
think,"  she  added  anxiously,  "  we  all  wouldn't  be  too 
much  for  her  ?  We're  pretty  gay,  you  know,  when  we 
get  started." 

"If  mamma  comes,  she'll  bring  the  car,  I  think," 
said  Grace.  "Our  own  chauffeur  is  on  his  vacation. 
But  the  substitute  drives  well,  only  we  don't  like  him 
much,  I  don't  know  why." 

"  Oh,  the  not  liking  him  doesn't  count,"  said  Rex, 
"  if  he  knows  his  business.  We'll  keep  him  in 
order." 

"  But  if  your  father  is  away,  that  will  leave  your 
brother  all  alone,"  said  Dorothy. 

"  No !  no !  that  won't  do.  She  must  bring  him 
along,"  declared  Rex. 

"  And  where  shall  we  go  ?  "  began  Dorothy. 

"  First  find  out  if  you  are  to  go  at  all,"  said  her 
father.  "  Don't  waste  time  looking  up  routes  you 
may  not  need." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you,  papa,"  said  his  eldest 
daughter.  "  I  like  the  old  proverb,  '  Get  thy  spindle 
and  thy  distaff  ready/  I  think  that  does  help  bring 
on  the  flax.  And  then,  don't  you  think  that  if  we 
ask  Mrs.  Longley  to  go  with  us,  we  ought  to  give 
her  some  idea  where  we  are  going?" 

"Whether  you  are  to  head  for  the  North  Pole  or 
the  Tropics?  Yes,  on  the  whole,  you're  right,  Doro- 


i8        DOROTHY    BROOKE'S   VACATION 

thy;  it  will  be  a  good  idea  to  plan  out  the  route  and 
the  time  of  absence,  in  a  general  way,  at  least." 

"  Then,  as  my  letter  to  Mrs.  Longley  will  go  by  the 
first  mail  in  the  morning,"  said  Mrs.  Brooke,  "  this  is 
the  time  to  decide  upon  the  outlines  of  your  trip,  if 
you  take  one." 

An  animated  and,  at  moments,  a  very  vigorous  dis- 
cussion followed.  Rex,  as  having  had  most  experi- 
ence in  roads  and  motoring,  had,  as  Priscy  put  it,  a 
two-count  vote.  But  the  wishes  of  the  guests  were 
consulted,  with  the  understanding  that  Mrs.  Longley, 
if  she  went,  was  to  modify  as  she  saw  fit. 

"  I  don't  care  where  it  is,  so  long  as  I'm  on  the 
move,"  announced  Harry.  "  But  I  s'pose  Olive  and 
I  don't  count ;  we're  too  young.  Anyway,  Olive,  we'll 
be  just  right  when  they're  all  too  old.  I  guess  I'll 
go  off  to  bed.  It's  too  aggravating.  Good-night, 
everybody.  Don't  dream  of  upsets."  And  the  boy 
took  himself  off. 

But  Olive  stayed  by;  if  she  could  not  go,  at  least 
she  could  listen;  and,  somehow,  she  felt  more  grown- 
up when  Harry  was  away. 

The  directions  of  the  North  Pole  and  of  the  Tropics 
were  canvassed.  But  neither  was  chosen.  Priscy 
proposed  a  constant  turn  to  the  right  on  all  roads, 
wherever  that  course  might  lead.  But  the  suggestion 
was  vetoed.  The  predominance  of  opinion  inclined  to 
the  westward  rather  than  toward  the  coast ;  the  roads 
were  good,  the  scenery  fine,  and  although  the  trav- 
elers intended  to  keep  off  the  line  of  fashionable 
travel,  they  would  find  stopping-places  at  comfortable 


PLANNING  19 

hotels,  and  there  would  be  mountain  views  and  all  the 
climbing  they  would  wish  for. 

The  invitation  sent,  everybody  waited  with  anxiety 
for  Mrs.  Longley's  answer.  The  evening  of  the  sec- 
ond day  it  arrived.  She  accepted.  Ned  also  was  de- 
lighted to  come ;  but  he  asked  permission  to  bring  his 
friend,  Jimmy  Reid,  who  had  been  working  hard  and 
needed  a  change.  If  there  was  not  room  in  the  motor 
car,  the  two  would  come  on  their  motor  cycles  and 
accompany  the  others. 

"  But  there  will  be  room  enough  in  the  car,"  de- 
clared Dorothy  who  was  not  fond  of  the  sound  of 
a  motor  cycle  and  who  also  thought  that  if  Ned  were 
with  them  there  would  be  opportunity  for  some  of 
the  planning  of  future  work  that  was  in  her  mind, 
even  in  her  play  time.  "  Rex's  motor  car  holds  four 
and  Mrs.  Longley's  six,"  she  went  on ;  "  and  we  have 
Mrs.  Longley,  Miss  Knowles" — for  Mrs.  Brooke  had 
wished  Miss  Knowles,  her  guest,  to  go  in  her  place — 
"we  four  girls,  Rex  and  the  chauffeur.  That  leaves 
places  for  the  two  boys." 

And  this  arrangement  was  made  with  Mrs.  Long- 
ley. 

But  the  route  and  those  invited  and  the  second  car 
did  not  include  everything  to  be  planned  for.  There 
were  "  the  et  ceteras,"  as  Dorothy  called  them.  What 
Grace  needed,  her  mother  would  bring.  But  both 
Lulu  and  Priscy  required  a  heavier  outside  garment 
than  they  had  brought  for  a  summer  visit ;  and  Doro- 
thy declared  that  something  taut  on  one's  head  was 
a  great  comfort.  They  were  to  carry  very  little  lug- 


20    DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

gage — underwear,  duplicate  veils  in  case  of  loss, 
plenty  of  pocket  handkerchiefs,  Rex  asserted,  because 
they  might  take  cold  in  the  mountains,  or  find  any- 
thing at  which  to  weep,  and  something  suitable  for 
evening  wear  at  a  hotel.  Dorothy  could  get  on  with 
a  big  suit  case,  and  there  were  some  to  loan  the  other 
girls.  Miss  Knowles,  however,  was  sure  she  must 
have  a  trunk  to  carry  all  the  things  she  might  need 
and  not  have  in  a  week  or  ten  days'  trip.  A  little 
dressing  sacque  was  not  enough,  something  might 
happen  so  that  she  would  need  a  long,  thick  kimono, 
and  she  would  take  one,  also  a  walking  suit,  besides 
the  suit  she  wore,  a  second  evening  gown  and  other 
things  which  Dorothy  and  the  rest  voted  nuisances  on 
such  a  journey  and  left  behind. 

"  She'll  be  just  like  that  all  through,"  whispered 
Priscy  to  Lulu  who  nodded  back  a  swift  glance  of 
amusement  and  a  gesture  of  prescience,  not  amuse- 
ment at  all,  as  to  what  such  a  spirit  as  accompani- 
ment on  the  trip  would  mean. 

The  time  of  preparation  sped  by  and  after  two  more 
days  they  would  be  off.  The  following  evening  Mrs. 
Longley  and  the  boys  were  to  arrive.  Mrs.  Brooke 
had  decided  that  she  must  have  at  least  a  full  day  in 
which  to  entertain  her  guests  at  Brookehurst ;  so  that 
on  the  second  morning  after  this  one  at  hand  they 
were  to  be  off.  Thus  far  everything  had  gone  with 
delightful  smoothness,  and  the  weather,  although  hot, 
was  not  unbearably  hot.  Then  toward  the  hills  the 
breezes  would  freshen.  It  seemed  to  Dorothy  that 
there  were  to  be  no  "  outs." 


PLANNING  21 

But  that  same  evening,  as  the  party  were  again 
grouped  on  the  veranda  where  they  caught  the  south 
wind,  Rex  came  with  the  mail. 

"  Three  letters  for  you,  Doro,"  he  said. 

As  Dorothy  ran  into  the  house  to  read  them  by  the 
light,  a  glance  at  the  handwriting  and  postmark  of 
one  made  her  heart  sink. 

It  sank  still  lower  as  she  read  it. 

"What's  the  matter,  Doro?"  asked  her  brother, 
looking  up  from  finishing  his  own  letters. 

"  Rose  Hewes  has  written  to  say  that  now  she  can 
come,"  returned  the  girl  dolefully. 

"  Pooh !  You  can  settle  that  easily  enough.  She 
didn't  come  when  she  was  asked ;  and  now  she  can't. 
That's  all  you  need  say  to  the  little  scullery  maid, 
mingling  in  your  regrets  to  soften  refusal.  Of  course, 
she  can't  come  now.  One  thing — there's  no  room  for 
her ;  both  cars  will  be  full.  Oh,  don't  worry  over  that, 
Doro." 

And  Rex  marched,  off  to  the  veranda  to  inform 
the  others  of  Miss  Hewes'  latest  exhibition  of  man- 
ners, leaving  Dorothy  still  standing  silently  gazing  at 
the  letter  and  seeing  in  it  a  picture  invisible  to  the 
others. 


Ill 

SHALL    SHE    BAR    HER    OUT? 

REX  stepped  out  upon  the  veranda  in  a  wrathful 
frame  of  mind. 

"The  little  scul — Miss  Rose  Hewes,"  he  began, 
"  has  just  written  that  she  can  come  now  to  make 
that  visit,  and  will  arrive  to-morrow  evening,  unless 
Dorothy  sends  her  word  to  the  contrary.  Of  course, 
Dorothy  will  send  her  word — I  should  think  so !  Miss 
Hewes  refused  the  invitation  when  it  was  given,  and 
there's  the  end  of  it.  She  shows  what  she  is  that  she 
doesn't  know  better  than  to  come  now.  I  told  Doro 
the  story  of  the  man  who  invited  an  acquaintance  to 
dinner  for  a  certain  day.  The  other  said  he  was  very 
sorry  he  couldn't  come  that  day;  but  he  would  come 
the  next.  '  I'll  be  hanged  if  you  do! '  retorted  the  in- 
viter.  I  rubbed  it  in,"  added  Rex.  As  he  spoke,  he 
turned  and  gazed  through  the  window  at  his  sister 
still  standing  with  the  letter  in  her  hand.  "Doro's 
always  thinking  of  the  other  fellow,"  he  said.  "  In 
this  case,  however,  there  are  several  other  fellows,  and 
to  my  mind  Miss  Hewes  might  as  well  shed  tears  of 
disappointment  not  to  come  as  we  to  have  her.  Then, 
the  places  in  the  motor  cars  are  all  filled.  I  told 
Doro  so."  He  turned  to  his  mother.  "Mater,  don't 
let  that  girl  get  into  the  soft  spot  in  Doro's  heart. 

22 


SHALL   SHE  BAR   HER   OUT?  23 

We  can't  have  a  scul — a  stranger  spoiling  our  fun. 
Doro  said  so  herself — I  mean,  she  said  before  that 
she  was  glad  the  girl  couldn't  come;  or  she  looked 
it." 

"  Of  course,  she  couldn't  expect  to  come  now," 
chimed  in  Miss  Knowles,  "  because  the  party  is  made 
up." 

"  Seats  all  engaged ;  she  didn't  speak  soon  enough," 
added  Olive  who  if  she  was  not  to  be  of  the  party, 
was  well  in  at  the  planning  of  it. 

Not  much  was  said ;  but  it  was  evident  to  Dorothy, 
when  at  last  she  joined  the  group,  that  Rex  had  told 
the  news  and  that  there  was  a  subdued  discomfort 
and  even  annoyance  at  the  idea  of  the  stranger.  The 
guests  could,  of  course,  have  put  in  no  plea  for  Miss 
Hewes;  but  Dorothy  felt  that  there  was  more  than 
mere  forbearance,  that  they  sided  with  Rex.  She  was 
not  disposed  to  discuss  the  matter  at  the  moment. 

"But  you  must  do  something  immediately,  or  she 
will  be  upon  us ! "  cried  her  brother. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  returned  Dorothy.  "  But  I  shall 
sleep  upon  it.  I  know  that  I  must  telegraph  some- 
thing in  the  morning."  As  she  spoke,  she  glanced  at 
her  mother,  wishing  that  Mrs.  Brooke  would  speak. 
But  the  latter  sat  silent  in  the  shadow  that  lay  only 
the  darker  for  the  bands  of  electric  light  streaming 
from  the  windows  on  each  side  of  it.  Whatever  opin- 
ion she  had  was  not  given.  Rex  tried  to  pursue  the 
subject;  but  Dorothy  was  so  unwilling  to  talk  about 
it  that  he  desisted. 

They  came  back  to  the  question  of  their  route 


24        DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

which,  although  planned  out  in  the  general  course,  had 
still  details  to  be  considered.  Judge  Brooke  gave 
many  points  of  interest  and  was  especially  well  in- 
formed as  to  the  hotels  they  were  to  stop  at — a  mat- 
ter that,  plainly,  gave  Miss  Knowles  some  little  anx- 
iety. Anxiety  was  normal  with  her  Rex  had  con- 
fided to  Lulu  Bromley  the  previous  day — a  statement 
a  trifle  unjust  to  Miss  Knowles,  yet  having  in  it  a 
spice  of  truth. 

As  Dorothy  bade  her  mother  good-night,  she  said 
to  her  softly:  "What  do  you  think,  mother?" 

"The  matter  is  for  you  to  decide,  little  comrade," 
returned  Mrs.  Brooke,  giving  her  daughter  the  pet 
name  by  which  she  often  called  her  when  the  two 
were  alone  together;  for  she  and  this  eldest  daughter 
had  always  been  companionable. 

"Yes,  I  know,  mother.  But  your  little  comrade 
would  be  glad  to  know  which  way  you  would  walk  ?  " 

"I  hope — the  way  that  I  should  be  glad  of  after- 
ward," returned  the  other;  and  would  say  nothing 
further. 

That  evening  while  Grace  was  brushing  out  her 
hair  for  the  night,  there  came  a  knock  at  her  door. 
"  May  I  come  in  ?  "  asked  Dorothy. 

"  When  are  you  not  welcome?  "  returned  her  friend. 
"Take  this  chair  and  I'll  have  my  braids  done  in  a 
moment." 

"  I've  come  to  talk  it  over  with  you,"  said  Dorothy. 
"  I  never  forget  that  your  advice,  if  you'd  been  there 
to  give  it,  would  have  been  the  only  right  one  in  all 
the  school — when  mother  was  so  ill  and  I  wanted  to 


SHALL  SHE  BAR  HER  OUT?    25 

go  to  her,  you  remember — and  since  then  I  have  al- 
ways had  confidence  in  your  judgment.  You  see,  if 
I  wanted  poor  Rose  Hewes  and  believed  that  she 
would  be  an  acquisition  to  our  party,  it  would  be  plain 
sailing.  Or  if  I  were  the  only  one  to  be  considered 
I'd  let  her  come  in  a  moment.  But  I  don't  want  to 
spoil  the  trip  for  the  others.  And  yet " 

"  Who  is  Miss  Hewes,  Dorothy?  I  never  heard  of 
her  before." 

"  She's  the  daughter  of  the  house  where  mother 
and  I  boarded  for  a  month  last  summer  when  the 
doctor  said  mother  needed  perfect  rest  and  would 
not  be  able  to  get  it  at  a  hotel;  he  didn't  want  her 
to  take  a  cottage  anywhere  and  go  to  housekeeping; 
he  said  she  must  have  no  responsibilities  of  any  kind 
for  a  time.  So,  we  went  to  the  Hewes  farm.  Of 
course,  it  was  very  quiet ;  but  it  was  pleasant.  There 
were  only  four  other  boarders,  but  they  were  elderly 
people,  all  except  Miss  Knowles ;  that  is  where  mother 
became  acquainted  with  her ;  she  considered  me  a  child 
and  didn't  notice  me  much.  It  didn't  trouble  me." 
And  Dorothy  laughed  a  little.  "  Rose  and  I  were  a 
good  deal  together  when  Rose  had  any  time  that  she 
could  call  her  own.  But,  Grace,  she  had  to  work 
harder  than  any  maid  we  ever  had  in  this  house; 
sometimes  she  would  look  so  tired;  and  one  evening 
— yes,  more  than  once — I  found  her  crying.  She 
said  she  didn't  know  what  the  matter  was,  but  mother 
said  it  was  sheer  fatigue.  They  had  no  servant,  only 
a  woman  who  came  certain  days  to  wash  and  scrub; 
Mrs.  Hewes  and  Rose  did  all  the  rest  of  the  work 


26        DOROTHY    BROOKE'S   VACATION 

for  six  boarders.  Mother  was  indignant ;  she  said  the 
boarders  paid  enough  to  have  the  farmer  hire  help. 
I'm  sure  he  had  money  enough  besides;  but  he  was 
miserly,  and  he  was  working  his  wife  and  daughter 
to  death, — mother  told  him  so  one  day.  But  he's  a 
pachyderm ;  he  said  we  were  spoiling  the  girl.  Rose 
and  I  used  to  read  together  sometimes;  she  is  fond 
of  reading.  Then  she  was  always  noticing  the  fine 
views  and  how  the  clouds  would  change  the  land- 
scape." 

"She  must  be  an  interesting  girl,  Dorothy." 
"  If  she  weren't  so  afraid  to  talk,  Grace.  It's  silly 
for  Americans  to  talk  nonsense  about  class,"  she 
added ;  "  and  some  of  the  first  people  in  the  land  have 
been  farmers  and  farmers'  children.  But  Rose  shows 
at  times  that  she  has  not  been  well  educated;  she  has 
had  so  few  opportunities,  although  she's  bright 
enough.  I  think,  too,  she  is  ambitious,  but,  of  course, 
I  couldn't  ask  her  if  she  wanted  to  know  things  I 
saw  she  had  no  chance  to  learn.  But  one  day,  after 
she  had  been  crying  the  evening  before,  mother  said 
I  might  tell  her  I  was  going  to  invite  her  to  come 
to  visit  me  for  a  week  this  summer.  I  ought  to  have 
written  before  vacation,  to  give  her  time.  But  so 
many  things  happened  in  school,  you  know,  and  there 
was  so  much  to  think  about  when  I  came  home  that 
I  nearly  forgot  her.  Then,  when  I  did  write  she 
couldn't  come;  and  I'm  afraid  I  was  mean  enough, 
Grace,  to  be  glad ;  I  didn't  want  her  with  you  and  the 
others;  I  didn't  want  to  have  to  leave  you  ever  and 
entertain  her — I  mean,  leave  talking  with  you,  you 


SHALL  SHE  BAR  HER  OUT?    27 

know — when  being  with  you  was  such  a  pleasure. 
And  now  you  know  how  it  is.  Rex  is  right  on  gen- 
eral principles.  But "  Dorothy  paused;  then, 

leaning  forward,  she  laid  her  hand  upon  her  friend's. 
"  Grace,"  she  said,  "  if  you  had  only  seen  her  face 
when  I  told  her  last  summer  that  I  was  going  to  in- 
vite her!  The  coming  was  a  year  off;  but  the  delight 
of  it  shone  in  her  eyes  like  sunshine.  It  wasn't  her 
fault,  you  may  be  sure,  that  she  couldn't  come  the 
very  day  I  asked  her  this  year.  They  wouldn't  let 
her;  they  had  more  boarders,  I  suppose,  and  she  had 
to  be  just  what  Rex  calls  her — a  little  scullery  maid. 
I'm  wicked  enough  to  wish  she  hadn't  written  just 
now.  But  I  can't  get  it  out  of  my  head  how  it  would 
seem  to  her  a  bit  out  of  paradise  to  go  on  an  auto- 
mobile trip,  and  would  tide  her  over  a  good  many 
hard  places  to  come  in  her  life.  When  she  has  to 
scrub  pots  and  pans  she  would  seem  to  see  again  in 
her  mind  the  grand  country  she  passed  through  with 
us,  and  nobody  would  appreciate  it  more.  And  when 
the  boarders  are  top-lofty  with  her — as  some  of  them 
used  to  be — she  will  remember  how  this  summer  she 
went  about  and  was  waited  upon  herself,  like  the  best 
of  them ;  it  will  do  her  good.  And,  Grace,"  she  added, 
her  own  eyes  growing  moist,  "  I  keep  seeing  her  sad 
face  when  I  say  'no/  and  the  tears  in  her  blue  eyes, 
and  I  seem  to  hear  over  and  over,  what  she  said  to 
me  one  day,  I  remember  it  because  it  was  the  only 
word  of  complaint  she  ever  uttered :  '  You  work,  but 
you  never  have  to  drudge,'  she  said  so  pathetically ;  '  I 
don't  mind  working,  I  expect  to;  but  there's  never 


28        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

any  let-up;  if  only  I  could  have  a  little  fun  some- 
times, like  other  girls/  Now  you  see  what  I  mean 
about  this  trip  being  a  paradise  to  her.  She's  just  too 
much  for  me,  Grace,  when  I  think  about  her.  I  know 
you  wouldn't  mind  a — a  stranger  who  didn't  always 
talk  as  we  do — and  I  believe  I  don't  care  whether  the 
others  mind  or  not.  I " 

"  Why,  Dorothy,  everybody  who  knew  about  it 
would  be  glad  to  have  her ! "  cried  Grace,  her  own 
eyes  growing  suspiciously  bright. 

"  But,  you  see,  if  Rose  should  go  with  us,  your 
brother  and  Jimmy  Reid  will  have  to  come  on  their 
cycles.  As  Rex  says,  there  won't  be  room  for  us  all 
in  the  motor  cars.  I  should  have  to  telephone  the 
first  thing  in  the  morning.  Would  your  mother  mind 
the  change?" 

"  I'm  not  sure  she  wouldn't  prefer  it/'  laughed  the 
other.  "Jimmy  is  restless,  he's  so  active;  he  likes  to 
take  side  excursions  and  explore." 

"  Then  the  cycle  would  give  him  a  good  chance," 
returned  Dorothy,  relieved. 

She  stayed  a  while  talking  with  Grace  before  bid- 
ding her  good-night.  Afterward  she  sat  by  the  win- 
dow in  her  own  room  to  think  things  over  once  more, 
and  make  sure  that  she  was  right.  Then  she  went  to 
dreamland. 

"I  heard  the  telephone  early  this  morning,  Dorci," 
said  Rex  at  the  breakfast  table :  "  '  Please'  give  me  ' — 
I  lost  what  it  was  you  wanted;  I  suspect  I  went  off 
to  sleep;  then  I  waked  up  again  just  in  time  to  hear: 
'Yes,  thank  you.  I'm  glad  it  will  not  be  an  incon- 


SHALL  SHE  BAR  HER  OUT?    29 

venience.  I'll  explain  when  I  see  you;  I'm  so  sorry 
to  ask  you.'  I  thought  you  must  be  telling  Miss 
Hewes  you  were  so  sorry  she  thought  of  coming  now ! 
I  was  so  pleased  to  hear  it,  I  turned  over  and  had 
another  nap."  Dorothy  smiled,  but  said  nothing. 
"And  in  spite  of  the  morning  nap,  I  thought  I  was 
up  early,"  pursued  Rex.  "  But  when  I  looked  out  of 
my  window,  there  were  you,  Doro,  flying  down  to  the 
stables  with  a  paper  in  your  hand.  What  was  wanted, 
I  wonder?" 

"  It  concerns  you,  and  all  of  us,  to  know,"  returned 
the  girl.  "  I  got  Reuben  to  drive  me  into  town,  and 
sent  off  a  telegram.  I  went  myself,  because  I  wanted 
to  make  sure  that  the  telegram  wouldn't  be  laid  over, 
as  they  sometimes  are  at  the  offices." 

"  Good !  good ! "  cried  Rex.  "  Three  cheers !  You 
telegraphed  to  the — to  Miss  Hewes,  not  to  come,  no 
room  for  her — deep  regret ! " 

"  I  telegraphed  to  Miss  Hewes  to  bring  something 
warm  to  wear,  for  we  were  going  on  an  auto  trip," 
returned  Dorothy,  growing  a  little  pale,  but  meeting 
the  looks  of  the  company  composedly. 

"Indeed!  Then  I  suppose  she's  to  take  my  place 
and  drive.  There  is  no  other  for  her." 

But  Rex  was  only  teasing,  and  his  sister  knew  it 
as  she  looked  into  his  eyes.  "  Grace's  brother  and  his 
friend  are  to  come  on  their  motor  cycles,"  she  an- 
swered. "  That's  what  I  was  telephoning  Mrs-.  Long- 
ley  about  this  morning;  I  Was  afraid  a  telegram 
wouldn't  be  put  through  soon  enough.  Rose  has  no 
telephone,"  she  added. 


30        DOROTHY    BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"You're  a  good  business  woman,  Dorothy,"  said 
her  father.  But  it  was  not  until  that  night  that  he 
found  opportunity  to  say  to  his  wife :  "  I'm  glad  our 
Dorothy  is  not  a  snob,  Olivia.  It  was  good  you  left 
her  alone;  her  instincts  are  true;  she's  a  little  lady." 

"  She  is  very  much  of  one,"  answered  his  wife  with 
a  smile.  "  Dorothy  is  large-natured,"  she  went  on. 
"  It's  vanity,  you  know,  that  is  the  snob ;  for  in  its 
heart  it  knows  itself  no  more  able  to  stand  alone  than 
a  rag  doll  and  clutches  at  the  props  of  public  opinion. 
But  Dorothy  is  proud ;  she  is  able  to  stand  on  her  own 
feet  on  her  own  ground." 

Her  listener  nodded  approvingly.  "That  trait  is 
worth  a  thousand  airs  and  graces,"  he  returned. 

"  I  think  that  our  eldest  daughter  has  some  of  the 
graces  besides,"  answered  his  wife. 

"  You  know  what  I  think  of  her,"  he  said.  "  I  only 
hope  she  won't  find  out  the  whole  of  it ;  I'm  afraid  it 
might  be  too  much  for  her." 

"  I'm  not  sure  about  that.  She  would  take  the  ad- 
miration as  being  all  love  for  her;  and  she  is  one 
whom  love  stimulates  to  her  best." 

Lulu  confided  to  Grace  that  Dorothy  must  have 
been  acting  up  to  her  motto  that  she  had  in  her  room 
at  school: 

"  Not  what  we  give,  but  what  we  share." 

Late  in  the  afternoon  Mrs.  Longley  arrived  with 
a  fine  motor  car  and  the  substitute  chauffeur  whom 
none  of  the  family  liked  as  well  as  the  permanent 
one,  but  who  had  the  advantage  of  knowing  the  roads 


SHALL  SHE  BAR  HER  OUT?     31 

well,  since  his  home  had  been  in  the  region  through 
which  they  were  to  pass  on  a  part  of  their  journey. 
Ned  and  Jimmy  Reid  appeared  soon  after  the  motor 
car,  very  warm,  and  glad  to  arrive;  for  it  had  been 
quick  work  to  get  the  cycles  ready  at  the  short  notice 
of  Dorothy's  telephone.  She  fancied  that  Jimmy 
Reid  was  pleased  at  the  change  in  the  program.  Ned 
was  very  courteous ;  but  rather  more  quiet  than  usual. 

The  next  day  he  explained  that  there  were  some 
things  that  the  cycles  needed  which  they  must  get 
before  starting;  and  he  and  Jimmy,  piloted  by  Rex, 
went  into  town,  as  the  suburbanites  called  the  neigh- 
boring city. 

Rose  Hewes  arrived  two  hours  after  the  others. 
Dorothy  drove  to  the  station  in  town  to  meet  her,  tak- 
ing Priscy  who  begged  to  accompany  her.  Rose 
proved  a  very  pretty  girl  of  eighteen,  but  painfully 
shy.  Dorothy  saw  that  she  was  watching  the  others 
carefully,  and  she  spoke  so  little  that  she  made  no 
bad  slip  in  her  grammar.  But  all  her  timidity  could 
not  keep  the  light  of  happy  anticipation  out  of  her 
eyes,  and  her  young  hostess,  reading  it,  was  more 
than  ever  assured  that  she  had  done  the  right  thing. 

"  She's  too  frightened  to  eat,  poor  little  soul ! "  com- 
mented Rex  who  treated  her  with  a  courtesy  that 
Dorothy  had  confidently  expected  of  him. 

Walking  out  to  the  pines  with  Dorothy  that  morn- 
ing before  the  arrivals,  Priscy  said  to  her:  "That's 
the  way  you  did  to  me." 

"  If  Rose  would  only  turn  out  like  you ! "  answered 
the  other  with  a  sigh. 


32        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

Late  that  same  evening  Pell-Mell  who  for  the  mo- 
ment was  standing  alone  with  Dorothy  put  an  arm 
about  her,  and  leaning  her  head  on  her  friend's 
shoulder,  confided :  "  She's  quite  an  improvement  on 
me,  Dorothy!  " 

Dorothy  turned  upon  the  speaker  with  a  laugh. 
"  You  amusing  child ! "  she  whispered  with  the  pro- 
tectingness  of  her  year's  seniority,  and  gave  Priscy  a 
hug.  "  It  would  be  difficult  to  improve  on  you,  Pell- 
Mell,"  she  said. 


IV 

OVER  THE    HILLS   AND   FAR   AWAY 

"  A  DAY  for  out  of  doors !  "  said  Mrs.  Brooke,  com- 
ing into  her  daughter's  room  the  morning  of  the  start. 

"  Oh,  mother,  is  it  late  ?  Have  I  overslept  ?  "  cried 
Dorothy,  springing  up.  "  There  were  so  many  things 
to  see  to  yesterday,  I  didn't  get  to  bed  very  early,  and 
I've  slept  like  a  log." 

"  Oh,  no,  like  a  child,"  returned  Mrs.  Brooke.  "  But 
you're  not  late.  I  was  awake  and  I  came  in  to  have 
five  minutes'  talk  and  to  give  you  my  good-by  here, 
all  by  ourselves,  little  comrade." 

Mrs.  Brooke  seated  herself,  and  Dorothy  came  and 
knelt  beside  her  with  arms  thrown  around  her  mother 
and  looking  up  into  the  face  bending  over  her  own. 
"  That's  just  like  you,  mother,"  she  said.  "  I  know  I 
shall  have  a  lovely  time;  but  I  shall  miss  you  every 
day,  and  I  shall  wonder  if  you  are  having  a  good  time, 
too,  and  shall  hope  that  you're  not  overdoing  and  that 
I  wasn't  wrong  to  leave  you  with  so  much  on  your 
hands  when  I  can  do  a  little  something  to  help  out, 
you  know." 

"  No,  little  comrade,  you  are  doing  right.  It  makes 
me  happy  to  think  of  you." 

"  Then,  think  of  me  a  great  deal ! "  laughed  Doro- 
thy with  a  tenderness  in  her  tones  as  she  lifted  herself 
to  meet  the  lips  that  bent  to  her  own. 

33 


34        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"  I've  not  come  to  preach  to  you  to  be  careful,  or  to 
be  kind,  or  to  do  one  thing  and  another,"  said  Mrs. 
Brooke.  "I  know  you'll  do  your  best;  but  just  to 
have  you  for  a  minute  all  to  myself."  Suddenly,  her 
grasp  of  her  daughter  tightened.  "I  pray  God  to 
bring  you  back  to  me  in  safety,  little  comrade." 

"And  I!"  whispered  Dorothy. 

Then  they  began  to  talk  of  the  last  arrangements 
for  the  start. 

"  I  like  Mrs.  Longley  as  much  as  you  do,  Dorothy," 
said  Mrs.  Brooke.  "You  couldn't  go  with  anybody 
better." 

"Only  one,  mother." 

"  No,  not  excepting  one,  little  comrade." 

"There  we  must  agree  to  differ,"  answered  the 
other  with  a  smile. 

"What's  the  matter  with  Nemo?"  asked  Dorothy 
as  her  quick  ears  detected  an  unwonted  sound. 

"  He's  shut  up  in  the  stable,"  volunteered  Harry 
who  that  morning  seemed  in  evidence  everywhere  and 
more  than  once  had  made  himself  of  use.  He  was 
rather  solemn  as  he  watched  the  preparations  for  de- 
parture; but  Rex  had  whispered  him  a  word  of  com- 
fort, that  by  and  by  he  would  take  him  and  Olive  a 
whole  long  day's  spin.  They  would  take  Nemo  who 
was  now  howling  his  heart  out  because  he  could  not 
go  with  the  travelers,  would  start  in  the  early  morn- 
ing, would  stop  at  some  fine  hotels  for  lunch  and  for 
dinner,  and  not  come  home  until  late  in  the  evening. 
The  children  knew  they  were  going  to  be  happy,  for 


OVER   THE  HILLS  AND  FAR  AWAY      35 

Rex  kept  his  promises.  But  Harry  confided  to  his 
younger  sister  that,  somehow,  happiness  to-day  seemed 
more  than  thinking  about  having  it  to-morrow,  and, 
all  the  same,  he  wished  he  was  going  that  morning. 

"  So  do  I,"  returned  Olive.  "  But  I  wouldn't  have 
them  know  it  for  the  world ;  I  have  a  little  pride." 

"  I  s'pose  pride  keeps  a  stiff  upper  lip,"  commented 
Harry  looking  at  her. 

Mrs.  Longley's  motor  car  was  brought  up  to  the 
door  first.  The  whole  family  was  grouped  on  the 
steps  and  under  the  porte-cochere;  the  judge  had 
waited  for  a  later  train  that  he  might  see  the  travelers 
off;  Mrs.  Brooke  beside  him  was  holding  Mrs.  Long- 
ley's  hand  and  listening  to  the  latter's  warm  expres- 
sions of  the  pleasure  of  her  day  at  Brookehurst;  the 
children  had  been  standing  so  close  to  the  car  that 
their  father's  hand  had  pulled  them  back;  and  a  little 
withdrawn,  but  well  in  evidence,  stood  the  three  maids 
commenting  in  undertones  to  one  another.  Nobody 
forgot  to  bid  them  good-by,  and  Dorothy  whispered 
with  a  gravity  behind  her  smile:  "I  know  you'll  all 
take  good  care  of  mother." 

"That  we  will,  Miss  Dorothy,"  answered  Bella, 
the  cook,  as  spokeswoman,  noticing  with  pride,  that 
although  they  were  all  pretty  girls  as  she  afterward 
told  the  others,  "not  one  of  'em  was  so  lovely  in  the 
face  and  so  altogether  illigant,"  as  the  daughter  of 
the  house  in  which  Bella  had  lived  since  Dorothy  was 
a  little  child  who  used  to  hold  fast  to  her  finger  and 
be  led  about. 

Mr.  Brooke  helped  Mrs.  Longley  into  her  motor 


36       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

car,  a  very  handsome  limousine,  invisible  green  in 
color,  which  was  to  take  the  lead  and  stood  in  advance 
of  the  other.  He  bade  her  farewell  with  a  cordial 
echo  of  his  wife's  wish  that  before  long  they  might 
see  her  again  at  their  home ;  then,  with  a  smile  he  gave 
his  hand  to  Priscy  Pell  who  sprang  in  beside  her.  Next 
came  Rose  Hewes  and  Dorothy;  the  seat  with  the 
chauffeur  was  unoccupied.  The  car  moved  on  a  few 
rods  and  stood  waiting  for  the  second  one  to  be  rilled. 
Miss  Knowles  and  Grace  Longley,  Lulu  Bromley  and 
Rex  were  to  be  the  occupants  of  his  car. 

As  the  machine  stood  panting  to  be  off,  Rex  held 
out  his  hand  to  Miss  Knowles  to  help  her  in. 

But  she  drew  back.  "One  moment,"  she  began. 
"Are  you  quite  sure,  Mr.  Brooke,  that  no  accident 
will  happen,  that  everything — everything  is  all 
right?" 

"  Why,  Miss  Knowles,  you  didn't  say  anything  yes- 
terday when  you  went  for  four  hours ! "  cried  Harry. 

"  Be  quiet !  "  said  his  father  sternly.  The  boy  sub- 
sided, while  Rex  answered : 

"It  is  so  far  as  I  know,  Miss  Knowles.  I've  been 
over  the  machine  three  times  to  make  as  sure  as  I  can ; 
nobody  can  do  more  than  that." 

"  Of  course  not.  But  these  things  are  so  very  dan- 
gerous, you  know." 

"  Sure,  an'  she  wants  to  be  ridin'  in  the  other 
machine,  do  yer  see  ?  "  whispered  Bella  to  her  compan- 
ions. "  That  has  a  top  to  it,  an'  she  thinks  it's  f oiner 
than  Mr.  Rex's  that  he  told  me  was  the  color  of  a 
dove,  an'  good  enough  for  anybody." 


"ARE    YOU    QUITE    SURE    THAT    NO    ACCIDENT    WILL 
HAPPEN?" 


OVER   THE  HILLS  AND  FAR  AWAY      37 

"  All  luxuries  have  their  cost,"  the  young  man  was 
answering  courteously.  "  Yet,  considering  the  im- 
mense increase  in  the  amount  of  travel,  I  believe  that 
life  to-day,  even  when  one  is  traveling,  is  as  safe  as  in 
old  times,  if  not  safer  than  it  was  then.  I'll  cer- 
tainly do  my  best  to  bring  you  back  sound  in  life  and 
limb."  Again  he  held  out  his  hand  to  her:  surely, 
she  would  be  ready  to  get  in  by  this  time. 

But  she  was  not.  "  You're  a  trained  chauffeur,  Mr. 
Brooke?"  she  questioned.  "You  have  your  certifi- 
cate?" she  asked,  still  hesitating. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Knowles,  you  ought  to  take  out  an  acci- 
dent policy,  in  case  you  get  killed !  "  cried  Olive  going 
close  to  the  other  in  her  eagerness. 

But  this  time  a  sharp  pull  brought  her  to  the  foot 
of  the  steps.  "  If  either  one  of  you  speak  again,  you 
shall  go  into  the  house  immediately,"  said  a  voice  so 
authoritative  that  for  the  moment  she  dared  not  even 
look  up. 

"  Certainly,  Miss  Knowles,  I  have  my  certificate," 
Rex  was  answering.  "  Shall  I  get  it  and  show  it  to 
you?" 

"  Oh,  no !  no !  of  course  not,  Mr.  Brooke !  But — 
the  machine  is  numbered,  of  course — in  case  we  run 
over  anybody,  you  know?  To  be  sure,  though,  it  has 
to  be,"  she  reminded  herself  aloud. 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  enough  of  a  chauffeur  for  that ! "  he 
retorted.  "  I  never  ran  over  anybody — not  even  a 
hen!"  At  the  moment  he  was  a  step  behind  Miss 
Knowles,  and  as  he  spoke  he  gave  a  quick  glance  at 
Lulu  Bromley  standing  demurely  by. 


38        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"  Oh,  no !  no !  of  course  not !  "  Miss  Knowles  has- 
tened to  assure  him.  "I'm  certain  you're  all  right." 
But  she  still  stood  surveying  the  motor  car  with  an 
eye  that  was  as  critical  as  her  ignorance  of  the  ma- 
chine would  allow.  "  I  see  you  have  the  extra  tire  in 
case  of  need,"  she  added. 

"Yes,  indeed!"  returned  Rex  gravely. 

And  at  last  Miss  Knowles  permitted  herself  to  be 
helped  in.  She  took  the  back  seat  in  state  with  Grace 
Longley  beside  her ;  and  Lulu  took  the  place  beside  the 
driver. 

"  We  have  a  seat  here  for  Monsieur  L'Imprevu ! " 
called  back  Dorothy,  "  I  wonder  who  he'll  be  ?  *  Mon- 
sieur L'Imprevu '  is  *  Mr.  Unexpected,'  "  she  explained 
in  an  undertone  to  Rose.  "  Good-by,  everybody,"  she 
added  the  next  moment.  "  Tell  poor  Nemo  how  sorry 
I  am  he  can't  come — hello !  what's  that  ?  "  For  on 
the  instant  that  the  wheels  were  about  to  turn,  some- 
thing plumped  into  her  lap.  "One  of  Olive's  old 
slippers!  No!  on  my  word,  a  new  one!  Harry's 
joke!  I  thought  he  was  hugging  his  jacket  pretty 
well  for  a  warm  morning ! "  And  she  tossed  it  back 
with  a  flourish  just  as  they  were  off.  "  Dear  chil- 
dren!" she  said  to  Rose.  "I  wish  we  could  have 
taken  them !  They  never  make  trouble." 

"  You  could  if  I  had  not  come  with  you,"  returned 
the  other,  to  Dorothy's  amazement. 

"  Oh,  Rose,  you've  not  ousted  the  children.  Don't 
think  that  for  a  moment,"  she  cried.  "  My  mother 
would  not  have  thought  it  best  anyway  to  have  them 
come-  Ned  Longley  and  Jimmy  Reid  would  have 


OVER   THE  HILLS  AND  FAR  AWAY      39 

come  in  the  motor  car,  that's  all.  We  are  glad  you 
are  here."  And  she  smiled  into  the  brightening  face 
turned  wistfully  up  to  her  own. 

"  My  father  said  you  wouldn't  want  me  after  I  had 
said  '  no,' "  confided  Rose,  "  and  I'd  better  stay  at 
home  and  make  myself  useful.  But " 

"  But  you  did  quite  right  to  come.  Look  at 
those  hills  in  the  distance,  and  the  river,  and  those 
soft  clouds  against  the  blue  sky  and  think  how  much 
we  are  to  see,  and  tell  me  if  you're  not  glad  you 
came?  I  am,"  she  repeated. 

The  girl's  face  flushed  as  she  turned  her  eyes  from 
the  landscape  which  she  had  already  been  studying  and 
fixed  them  upon  her  young  hostess.  "I'm  glad  for 
more  than  that,"  she  answered.  "  It's  people  makes 
things  look  best,"  she  added. 

Suddenly,  Dorothy  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  laid  a 
hand  of  authority  on  the  chauffeur's  shoulder.  "  Stop ! 
stop !  "  she  cried.  "  You'll  run  over  that  dog !  Stop 
this  instant ! " 

"I've  whistled  to  him,  and  if  he  hasn't  got  out  of 
the  way,  that's  his  lookout,"  returned  the  man  sul- 
lenly. Yet  he  slackened  pace  at  once. 

As  he  did  so  the  girl  turned  to  Mrs.  Longley.  "  I 
know  you'll  forgive  me,"  she  said.  "  But  where  you 
are  sitting  I  knew  you  couldn't  see  the  danger." 

"  I  thank  you ! "  cried  the  other.  The  car  came 
almost  to  a  halt;  and  the  dog  which  had  been  lying 
as  if  asleep  in  the  middle  of  the  road — he  was  a 
heavy  old  creature — waddled  into  the  bushes  on  the 
roadside  and  disappeared.  At  the  time  nothing  more 


40        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

was  said.  But  when  the  party  stopped  for  luncheon, 
Dorothy  heard  the  chauffeur  answer  Mrs.  Longley  in 
a  sullen  tone  that  he  would  do  the  best  he  could.  One 
was  expected  to  have  a  care  about  people ;  but  animals 
must  look  after  themselves. 

"'  Not  while  you  drive  my  car,"  Dorothy  heard  Mrs. 
Longley  answer  him  with  a  sternness  that  she  had  not 
caught  in  her  voice  before.  From  the  moment  she 
had  looked  at  him,  Dorothy  could  not  endure  that 
chauffeur ;  her  quick  instincts  had  told  her  not  to  trust 
him.  But  he  must  be  all  right,  even  if  he  were  only  a 
substitute,  or  he  would  not  be  driving  Mrs.  Longley's 
car.  Yet  that  morning  her  thoughts  turned  with  satis- 
faction to  Ned  and  Jimmy ;  it  was  good  that  Rex  was 
not  the  only  man  on  hand  in  case  anything  should  go 
wrong.  But  what  could,  if  the  chauffeur  drove  well? 
As  she  was  watching  him,  he  threw  a  glance  at  her 
which  she  caught.  "  How  angry  he  is  with  me ! "  she 
thought;  and  then  forgot  him. 

That  July  morning  the  sighing  of  the  wind  in  the 
pines  overhead  made  only  a  soft  minor  accompani- 
ment to  the  merry  laughter  that  floated  up  as  the  com- 
pany sat  on  the  pine  needles — the  only  needles  rec- 
ommended for  such  a  purpose — and  discussed  one 
of  Bella's  best  luncheons,  and  the  cook's  experience  in 
that  line  had  been  large  in  the  Brooke  family  where 
throughout  the  summer  out-of-door  excursions  were 
many.  That  day  the  air  had  a  breath  of  freshness, 
and  the  sound  of  running  water  in  the  brook  in  the 
hollow  a  hint  of  coolness;  they  rested  for  a  while 
under  the  trees. 


OVER   THE  HILLS  AND  FAR  AWAY      41 

Jimmy  Reid  threw  himself  down  at  the  feet  of 
Grace  and  Dorothy  who  were  eating  their  egg  sand- 
wiches with  Spartan  sauce.  "I  chose  tongue,"  he 
said  holding  up  his  sandwich.  "You  see,  that's  a 
commodity  I  haven't  enough  of!"  After  which  re- 
mark he  set  himself  to  prove  the  contrary,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  amusing  his  listeners  so  well  that  others 
joined  the  group. 

He  was  somewhat  short  of  stature,  and  slender, 
which  made  him  look  younger  than  he  was.  Years 
ago  Grace  had  won  his  undying  allegiance  by  asserting 
stoutly  that  his  hair  was  auburn,  and  not  red,  as  the 
boys  called  it.  It  waved  slightly  and  was  really  a 
good  color,  although  in  certain  lights  open  to  the 
allegation  of  his  critics.  His  blue  eyes  had  a  twinkle 
of  fun  in  them,  his  nose,  more  for  use  than  beauty, 
had  a  keenness  of  perception  of  both  physical  odors 
and  moral  obliquities,  and  his  humorous  mouth  could 
close  tightly  enough  to  hold  fast  the  secrets  it  wished 
to  retain.  As  he  talked  he  shot  a  glance  every  now 
and  then  at  the  young  man  who,  seated  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  circle,  was  frowningly  eating  his  full  share 
of  the  good  things  before  them.  "  What's  the  matter 
with  Manson  ?  "  he  asked  himself.  "  I'll  have  an  eye 
on  him."  But  this  was  one  of  the  opinions  that  his 
lips  held  within  their  own  doors. 

The  afternoon  spin  went  on  without  more  incident 
than  the  unfolding  of  the  magnificent  panorama  of 
scenery  in  an  undulating  country.  The  travelers  from 
their  cars  looked  up  at  the  hills  around  glowing  in 
the  sunshine  that  burned  on  their  summits,  or  shad- 


42        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

owed  by  the  soft  darkness  of  passing  clouds;  or 
again,  from  some  valley  they  climbed  the  side  of  one 
of  these  hills,  not  too  steep,  and  looked  down  into  the 
sweeps  of  field  and  orchard,  of  village  nestling  in  the 
valley,  or  city  built  upon  the  plain  and  stretching  an 
arm  toward  the  heights  behind  it.  Streams,  and  here 
and  there  a  lake  lent  the  charm  which  water  alone 
can  give  to  a  landscape. 

It  was  twilight  when  they  arrived  at  a  great  house 
set  in  the  hills,  commanding  a  view  of  the  surrounding 
country  that  in  daylight  or  moonlight  was  extensive 
and  that  in  the  half  light  had  a  fascination  that  held 
Rose  Hewes  spellbound  as  she  gazed  upon  it.  Rex, 
sent  by  his  sister,  joined  her  as  she  stood  forgetting 
where  she  was  and  her  companions. 

"  You'll  spoil  your  eyes,  Miss  Hewes,"  he  laughed. 
And  they  turned  and  went  into  the  hotel.  "  I  do  hope 
the  people  here  haven't  eaten  up  everything,"  he  added 
with  a  prosaicness  destined  to  bring  Rose  to  earth. 
"  I'm  as  hungry  as  a  hawk.  And  I  hope  everybody 
will  be  ready  to  start  early  to-morrow  in  the  best  of  the 
day." 


SOUNDS   IN   THE  NIGHT 

THAT  evening  in  the  hotel  Lulu,  Grace,  Priscy  and 
Rose  all  sat  about  on  chairs  or  bed  in  Dorothy's  room 
talking  over  the  day.  They  decided  that  nothing  re- 
markable had  happened;  but  the  decision  involved  a 
good  deal  of  discussion  of  things  not  remarkable,  yet 
sometimes  amusing.  Rose  hazarded  several  sentences 
and  her  face  as  she  sat  listening  to  the  droll  hits  made 
by  the  others  was  a  satisfaction  to  Dorothy  who  felt 
again  that  she  had  done  right  to  invite  her.  The  girl 
did  not  talk  so  badly,  after  all — when  she  said  any- 
thing! 

As  they  were  sitting  there  a  hairpin  fell  out  of 
Priscy's  head.  Replacing  it  she  said  with  a  laugh  that 
Jimmy  Reid's  hair  was  quite  as  red  as  her  own. 

Grace  took  up  the  remark  at  once.  "  Red  hair 
means  pluck,  Pell-Mell,"  she  said;  "and  you  have 
plenty  of  it.  So  has  Jimmy.  I  wish  you  could  have 
seen  him  when  he  first  came  to  our  house.  Ned  was 
lying  on  a  couch  coughing,  coughing,  as  he  did  then 
all  the  time ;  he  had  been  very  ill  and  he  couldn't  seem 
to  get  well  again.  None  of  us  quite  knew  whether  he 
was  still  really  ill  and  Jimmy  cured  him  by  putting 
his  own  energy  into  him  and  making  him  grow  well 
because  he  believed  he  could,  or  whether  Ned  had 
really  recovered  and  couldn't  believe  it  himself,  he  felt 

43 


44        DOROTHY   BROOKE'S    VACATION 

so  weak,  and  thought  he  couldn't  get  about  again.  Any- 
way, he  lay  on  the  couch  all  the  time  when  he  wasn't 
in  bed,  and  read  and  coughed.  And  when  he  was  car- 
ried down  stairs  for  a  drive  he  kept  on  coughing.  He 
would  never  drive  long,  for  he  said  it  hurt  him.  But 
whatever  he  was  doing  he  always  coughed,  so  the  doc- 
tors said  he  must  go  South  that  winter.  Mamma 
was  about  ready  to  take  him  when  one  day  Ned  who 
was  moped  to  death  and  yet  didn't  want  to  see  any- 
body, began  to  watch  a  little  fellow  marching  through 
the  pouring  rain  and  dancing  his  big  umbrella  over 
his  head  as  he  ran  up  the  door-steps  of  the  different 
houses.  From  his  window  Ned  could  see  far  down  the 
street.  When  the  boy  was  going  past  our  house  Ned 
insisted  that  our  man  should  bring  him  upstairs.  Papa 
was  out,  of  course,  at  that  hour,  and  mamma  wasn't 
at  home  either  that  day,  and  you  know  when  Ned 
makes  up  his  mind,  it  is  hard  to  say  *  no '  to  him,  and 
our  man  had  no  right  to  do  it.  So,  Jimmy  was 
marched  up  to  Ned's  room.  It  doesn't  take  boys  long 
to  get  acquainted — not  so  long  as  it  does  girls,  I 
think,  and  soon  the  two  were  talkiing  away  as  Ned 
had  not  talked  for  weeks  and  weeks.  The  man  who 
waited  on  him  told  us  about  it,  and  he  declared  that 
Ned  didn't  cough  so  much,  for  all  he  talked.  The 
boys  were  in  different  divisions  of  school,  which  was 
the  reason  they  had  not  been  acquainted  before. 
Jimmy  was  as  full  of  health  as  Ned  was  of  illness. 
When  Ned  told  of  his  going  South,  Jimmy  thought 
it  would  be  fine  to  see  the  world ;  but  Ned  wanted  to 
get  well  and  stay  at  home.  I  can't  begin  to  tell  all 


SOUNDS   IN  THE   NIGHT  45 

the  talks  and  things  that  went  on,  only  everybody 
saw  that  Ned  was  more  interested  in  things  and  that 
he  didn't  cough  nearly  so  much.  One  day,  however, 
none  of  us  will  ever  forget.  The  boys  were  too  young 
for  motor  cycles,  Ned  was  only  eleven  and  Jimmy  is  a 
year  younger  than  he,  and  the  motor  cycles  were  not 
used  so  much  then.  But  Ned  had  a  fine  bicycle  up 
in  the  stable  loft  rusting  out  for  want  of  use.  But 
Jimmy  had  outgrown  his  little  one  and  he  couldn't 
have  another,  for  his  father's  business  partner  had  run 
away  with  a  lot  of  money,  and  so  Mr.  Reid  had  failed 
and  there  wasn't  a  dollar  to  spare  to  buy  Jimmy  a 
bicycle.  The  poor  little  fellow  wanted  one  dreadfully. 
Mamma  let  Jimmy  keep  coming,  for  he  certainly  did 
cheer  up  Ned,  and  the  boys  talked  so  much  about  ball 
games  and  all  kinds  of  out-of-door  sports  that  Ned 
got  wild  to  get  out  again.  This  day  I'm  speaking  of 
he  made  the  man  bring  his  bicycle  round  to  the  front 
gate,  so  that  he  could  at  least  look  at  it.  Then  he  made 
Jimmy  try  it.  That  was  another  time  when  every- 
body but  the  servants  were  out  of  the  house  for  a 
while.  Ned  had  begun  to  walk  around  the  room;  he 
had  been  wabbly  at  first,  but  he  was  getting  steadier. 
He  stood  at  the  window  and  saw  Jimmy  come  back  in 
fine  style.  Every  nerve  in  Ned  tingled  to  be  a  real, 
out-of-door  boy  once  more.  He  ran  downstairs  hold- 
ing tight  on  to  the  banisters  with  Jo — that  was  the 
man — calling  after  him  at  every  step,  and  met 
Jimmy  at  the  door.  '  I'm  going  to  have  a  turn ! '  he 
cried,  and  went  down  the  steps  and  the  path  to  the 
sidewalk  and  managed  to  get  on  to  his  bicycle.  Jimmy 


46       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

was  after  him  and  begged  him  not  to  try  it;  but  he 
would.  The  pedals  turned  very  slowly  at  first;  then 
he  got  under  way  and  off  he  went.  '  You  go  back 
upstairs  and  wait  for  me/  he  called  to  Jimmy.  At 
first  thought  Jimmy  tried  to  keep  up  with  the  bicycle ; 
but  after  a  little  he  couldn't  begin  to  do  it.  So,  he 
waited  with  his  heart  in  his  mouth.  Ned  didn't  come 
back.  But  mamma  came  home;  and  then  papa — 
and  wasn't  there  a  circus !  Some  boys  would  have  run 
away  before  papa  came  home ;  but  Jimmy  wasn't  that 
kind  of  boy ;  and  then,  he  was  too  anxious  about  Ned. 
At  last  it  began  to  grow  dusk,  and  there  was  still  no 
sign  of  him.  Jimmy  thought  papa  had  a  policeman 
round  the  corner  to  nab  him  for  doing  injury  to  his 
son ;  but  he  wouldn't  have  run  off  if  he  could ;  he  was 
going  to  see  Ned  home.  At  last  when  everybody 
was  wild  and  papa  was  going  to  send  out  to  search, 
up  the  road  came  a  bicycle  at  a  good  pace,  nearer  and 
nearer  and  stopped  at  our  gate.  Off  got  Ned  and 
walked  all  alone  and  pretty  straight  up  the  path  and 
into  the  house.  He  threw  himself  down  on  the  lounge 
with  a  happy  sigh.  *  I'm  tired  enough,'  he  said.  '  But 
I'm  all  right;  I'm  like  the  other  fellows  again.  And 
there's  the  boy  that's  cured  me.'  So,  that's  the  way 
we  became  acquainted  with  Jimmy.  Afterward  we 
found  out  that  papa  and  his  father  went  to  school 
together  when  they  were  boys  in  the  country." 

"You  haven't  finished  the  story,  Grace,"  said 
Dorothy  quietly  when  exclamations  had  subsided. 
"You  haven't  told  that  Jimmy  got  his  bicycle.  I 
know  he  did." 


SOUNDS   IN   THE   NIGHT  47 

Grace  laughed  a  little.  "  He  didn't  want  to  take 
it  at  first,"  she  answered.  "  He  said  it  was  good 
enough  to  see  Ned  well.  Papa  had  to  make  him  see 
how  much  less  the  best  bicycle  was  than  a  trip  down 
South,  and  how  much  good  it  would  do  us  all  if  he 
would  go  on  cycling  with  Ned.  The  boys  are  so  fond 
of  one  another,"  she  added.  "  Jimmy  is  very  bright 
and  amusing  when  you  come  to  know  him." 

Priscy  laughed.  "We  don't  have  to  be  told  that, 
Grace,"  she  said. 

After  the  other  girls  had  gone  to  bed  and  were 
fast  asleep,  Dorothy  lay  looking  out  upon  the  stars 
framed  in  her  window  marching  by  in  their  wondrous 
and  endless  procession,  to  the  dwellers  on  the  earth  as 
silent  in  their  motion  as  many  another  mystery  of  the 
universe.  Yet  who  can  tell  what  sounds  vibrate 
through  the  spaces  as  the  stars  roll  in  their  orbits? 
"When  the  morning  stars  sang  together,"  Dorothy 
quoted  softly  to  herself. 

A  noise  in  the  house  brought  her  back  to  earth,  and 
she  went  over  the  incidents  of  the  day  with  a  sense  of 
responsibility  that  belonged  to  her  as  hostess ;  Rex  was 
splendid  help,  but  she  must  take  her  share.  Thus  far, 
things  had  gone  well.  She  laughed  a  little  as  she 
recalled  how  funny  it  had  been  when  in  the  woods 
Ned  had  marched  around  carrying  Bella's  richest  cake 
and  offering  everybody  a  piece  of  "  delicious,  sweet 
brown  bread !  "  "  Well !  it  looks  like  brown  bread," 
he  had  declared  when  they  had  all  shouted  at  him; 
"it  has  no  raisins  or  anything  in  it,  how  was  I  to 
know?  "  "  Only,  don't  tell  Bella,"  Dorothy  had  pleaded 


48       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

with  tears  of  laughter  in  her  eyes.  Ned  had  been  very 
good,  she  thought;  but,  somehow,  he  had  not  seemed 
quite  satisfied.  She  was  so  sorry  for  it,  but  she  had 
done  her  best  for  everybody.  Perhaps,  however,  he 
was  thinking  up  some  plot;  that  was  so  hard  to  do 
when  it  came  to  details  that  it  made  everyone  restless. 
How  much  Ned  and  Grace  thought  of  Jimmy!  It  was 
no  wonder.  And  how  much  Jimmy  thought  of  them. 

What  was  the  connecting  link  between  Jimmy  Reid 
and  the  chauffeur — unless  because  she  had  noticed 
the  former  watching  the  man?  But  whatever  it  was, 
she  went  to  sleep  thinking  of  the  dog  which  the  car 
had  nearly  run  over,  and  the  creature  appeared  in  her 
dreams,  always  in  trouble  of  some  kind,  and  always 
from  the  chauffeur,  and  she  was  trying  to  rescue  him. 
But  she  had  not  yet  succeeded  when  a  sound  awoke 
her.  Like  all  sounds  in  dreams,  it  could  not  be  placed 
on  first  awakening  and  she  lay  waiting  for  it  to  be  re- 
peated. There  it  was  again — a  short,  angry  bark 
followed  by  a  growl,  and  men's  voices  under  her  win- 
dow. The  first  morning  twilight  had  come.  Dor- 
othy listened.  The  sounds  were  repeated,  and  the 
voices  continued.  The  men  spoke  too  audibly  and 
held  their  ground  too  confidently  to  be  burglars ;  they 
must  belong  to  the  hotel  workers,  probably  were  hos- 
tlers whom  the  dog  had  roused. 

The  barks  went  on  in  crescendo  and  the  growls 
grew  more  loud  and  frequent.  Then  the  voices  were 
raised  and  Dorothy  thought  that  she  heard  the  word 
"  shoot."  She  threw  on  a  wrap  and  knelt  by  the  win- 
dow listening.  It  could  not  be  possible  that  was  the 


SOUNDS   IN  THE   NIGHT  49 

dog  they  had  passed  in  the  road  miles  back ;  he  never 
could  have  waddled  so  far.  There  seemed  to  her 
something  familiar  in  the  bark ;  but  then  all  large  dogs 
in  anger  and  excitement  had  probably  somewhat  the 
same  tone;  she  wished  that  she  could  see  the  animal. 
She  leaned  out  of  the  window  to  catch  a  glimpse  of 
him ;  but  her  room  looked  on  the  roof  of  the  veranda 
and  the  men  were  either  under  this  roof,  or  so  close 
that  she  could  see  nothing ;  they  seemed  to  be  holding 
the  dog.  But  this  time  she  caught  clearly  the  sugges- 
tion to  shoot. 

"  No !  no !  Don't  shoot  him ! "  she  called  impul- 
sively. "  Perhaps  he  belongs  to  some  one  here  and 
has  followed.  Wait!  I'll  call  my  brother." 

The  men  sprang  into  view  and  looked  up,  amazed. 

But  Dorothy  had  left  the  window  and  getting  into 
her  slippers,  had  unlocked  her  door  and  crossed  the 
corridor,  a  strange  suspicion  growing  into  certainty 
in  her  mind.  For  no  sooner  had  the  dog  heard  her 
voice  than  the  quality  of  his  barks  changed ;  he  uttered 
what  humanly  would  be  called  a  shout  of  joy  and 
burst  into  a  succession  of  these  that  threatened  to  wake 
every  sleeper  near  who  had  thus  far  been  oblivious  to 
his  tumult.  In  an  instant  Dorothy  was  knocking  on 
her  brother's  door.  "  Rex !  Rex ! "  she  called. 
"  Rex ! "  still  louder.  No  answer.  She  pounded  now 
in  place  of  knocking;  she  shook  the  door.  Still  no 
answer.  She  called  louder  yet,  and  shook  again,  and 
rattled  the  knob.  As  she  turned  this,  the  door  flew 
open ;  it  was  not  locked. 

"  Well!  What  in Oh,  Doro,  what  do  you  want? 


'So   DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

What's  the  matter  ?  "  cried  a  voice  shaking  itself  from 
sleep  as  the  girl  bent  over  the  bed,  a  hand  on  each 
of  the  sleeper's  shoulders. 

"Wake  up!  Wake  up,  Rex!  There's  a  dog  down 
here  under  my  window,  and " 

"  A  dog !     Well,  what  have  we  to  do  with  it  ? " 

"  But  the  men  are  talking  about  shooting  it,  and — 
Rex,  I  think  he  knows  my  voice." 

"  What ! "  cried  the  other,  wide  awake  at  last.  "  You 

think ?  Oh,  nonsense,  Doro!  That's  one  of  your 

imaginations.  You're  always  having  them  because 
you  write  stories." 

"  Oh,  Rex  dear,  won't  you  go  down  and  see  ?  " 

"Yes,  I'll  go  down  and  see  the  minute  you'll  get 
back  into  your  own  room  and  let  me  get  up.  And 
shut  your  door  now,  and  lock  it.  I'll  see  after  the 
dog.  It's  just  your  notion  though." 

Dorothy  skipped  back  into  her  room  and  pushed  to 
her  door.  But  she  did  not  lock  it;  she  did  not  even 
turn  the  knob;  she  dressed  herself  in  hot  haste  and 
listened  for  Rex.  When  she  heard  him  pull  to  his 
door  and  march  along  the  corridor,  she  smiled  in  satis- 
faction, and  closed  her  own  door — from  the  outside. 

Rex  ran  downstairs  and  out  upon  the  veranda.  The 
two  men  who  had  heard  his  footsteps  waited  for  his 
coming.  Not  so  the  dog  who  as  soon  as  Rex's  foot 
had  touched  the  threshold  of  the  hall  door,  freed 
himself  and  bounded  to  him  and  then  after  a  brief 
and  vigorous  greeting,  passed  him  and  sprang  with  a 
bark  of  delight  upon  some  one  behind  him. 

Rex  turned.  "Dorothy!  What  are  you  doing 
here?" 


SOUNDS   IN   THE   NIGHT  51 

For  answer  she  dropped  down  on  the  lowest  step 
of  the  stairs  and  put  her  arms  around  Nemo's  neck. 
"You  naughty,  naughty  dog!"  she  cried,  hugging 
him.  "  Yes,  you're  very  naughty  indeed — very 
naughty  to  have  slipped  out  of  your  collar  and  chain 
— but  you're  awfully  smart  to  have  followed  us  all 
this  way!  And  how  dusty  you  are!  And  how  tired 
and  hungry  you  must  be ! " 

"Great  punishment  you're  giving  a  dog  so  dis- 
obedient as  he  has  been !  "  cried  the  young  man  looking 
on,  half  annoyed,  and  half  amused. 

"I  know  it,  Rex.  But  then,  he  came  because  he 
loved  us ;  and  he  is  a  part  of  home,  I  can't  help  being 
glad  to  see  him." 

"  So  it  appears,"  returned  the  other  dryly. 

"Are  you  going  to  take  him  into  your  room, 
Rex?  Or  shall  I?"  questioned  the  girl  looking  a  bit 
ashamed  of  herself  but  not  desisting  from  her  occu- 
pation. 

"7  will — when  you've  finished  your  embraces." 
The  men  had  disappeared,  growling  over  the  slum- 
bers they  had  lost,  until  something  passing  from  Rex's 
hand  into  theirs  had  set  them  broadly  smiling. 

As  he  turned  back  to  her,  Dorothy  rose  and  pushed 
Nemo  gently  away.  "  I'll  go  and  dress,"  she  said  to 
her  brother.  "  I  can't  get  asleep  again."  Looking 
back  as  she  ran  upstairs,  she  laughed  over  her 
shoulder,  "  I  sha'n't  have  to  wash  my  face  this  morn- 
ing; Nemo's  done  it  thoroughly  for  me!  Naughty 
dog!" 


VI 

TWO   PERFECT  DAYS 

"  LOOK  at  him ! "  cried  Rex.  "  Even  the  conscious- 
ness of  guilt  is  washed  off  of  him !  I'll  show  you ;  for 
animals  are  like  people,  they  don't  feel  too  badly  when 
they're  able  to  eat." 

He  tossed  a  piece  of  bread  to  Nemo  who  caught  it 
deftly  in  his  mouth,  gulped  it  down  and  was  ready  for 
more.  But  he  did  not  need  it;  for,  thanks  to  a  gen- 
erous tip  from  Rex,  the  dog  had  been  washed  and 
combed  and  well  fed  and  was  now  anxiously  awaiting 
the  next  move.  It  was  not  clear,  however,  that  he 
was  not  conscious  of  having  done  something  out  of 
the  way ;  for  as  Rex  spoke,  the  animal  left  his  side  and 
sat  himself  down  close  to  Dorothy,  his  eyes  looking 
up  into  hers  with  both  affection  and  anxiety  in  their 
gaze. 

"Isn't  he  a  beauty — naughty  dog?"  asked  the 
girl  giving  the  very  handsome  collie  an  appreciative 
pat. 

"That's  it,  Dorothy!  Pat  away!  You're  spoiling 
the  fellow;  he  knows  as  well  as  we  do — I  can  tell 
now  by  his  eyes — that  he  has  done  very  wrong  in- 
deed; only,  he  doesn't  care."  And  Rex  shook  his 
head  disapprovingly  at  the  dog.  Nemo's  head  drooped 
and  he  cast  an  imploring  glance  at  the  speaker.  "  In- 
deed, you  do,  sir,"  Rex  went  on.  "  And  that  sister  of 

52 


TWO   PERFECT   DAYS  '53 

mine  is  doing  her  level  best  to  spoil  you — and  suc- 
ceeding, too." 

"Is  patting  more  detrimental  than  feeding?"  in- 
quired Ned  turning  his  eyes  from  Dorothy  to  her 
brother. 

"  Feeding  is  a  necessity,"  retorted  Rex,  and  added : 
"  We're  here  for  fun,  Longley ;  and  we  can't  get  it  if 
everybody  has  to  be  consistent ;  I  help  to  spoil  Nemo, 
and  take  it  out  in  scolding  Doro.  That  makes  things 
even." 

The  others  laughed.  The  party  were  taking  an 
early  breakfast  and  were  almost  alone  in  the  dining- 
room  and  quite  by  themselves  at  the  table  to  which 
they  had  been  assigned.  They  had  seated  themselves 
by  no  special  arrangement,  but  each  as  he  or  she  en- 
tered the  dining-room  took  the  place  preferred,  unless 
some  one  else  had  chosen  it  first.  Mrs.  Longley  had  the 
head  of  the  table,  Rex  was  on  one  side,  and  Miss 
Knowles  on  the  other;  Lulu  further  down  the  table 
was  talking  to  Jimmy  who  amused  her  much ;  Dorothy 
had  Rose  on  one  side  and  Grace  on  the  other.  Priscy 
taking  the  vacant  place  on  Rose's  other  hand,  was  talk- 
ing to  her  merrily,  secretly  rejoicing  as  she  did  so  that 
she  herself  had  never  found  it  difficult  to  talk. 

"We  ought  not  to  expect  too  much  in  July,  Ned 
— or  at  any  time,"  agreed  Mrs.  Longley. 

"I  don't  see  how  he  ever  found  his  way  to  us," 
said  Grace.  "  It  was  awfully  clever  in  him." 

"  Yes,  it  was,"  returned  Dorothy  eagerly.  "  It  was 
naughty  to  run  away,  but,  as  Grace  says,  it  was  really 
brilliant  in  him  to  find  us  at  all  at  this  distance.  And 


54        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

the  poor  fellow  must  have  run  nearly  the  whole  night 
to  catch  up  with  us,  even  when  we  went  so  slowly." 
And  again  she  patted  Nemo  who  still  sat  gazing  up 
at  her  with  unmistakable  gratitude.  "  I  can't  help 
liking  ability,"  she  added. 

"  You'd  like  to  hang  a  medal  tied  with  a  red  rib- 
bon round  his  neck,"  smiled  Ned  looking  at  Dorothy 
who  sat  opposite. 

"  You  know  by  experience,"  returned  the  girl,  "  that 
I  like  to  take  my  punishments  softened  by  rewards — 
when  I  have  to  take  them  at  all." 

"  That's  what  you  deserve,"  he  answered. 

"The  punishments,  or  the  rewards?"  questioned 
Dorothy. 

"  I  was  considering  the  latter ;  but  the  others  may 
have  to  come  in,  in  modified  form,  on  very  rare  occa- 
sions," he  laughed. 

"  Caution  is  one  of  Ned's  characteristics,"  observed 
his  mother  smiling. 

"/  'm  not  cautious,  certainly,"  returned  Dorothy, 
"  when  I  hand  in  themes — plays,  for  instance,"  she 
added  referring  to  an  incident  of  school  life  the  pre- 
vious year  in  which  Ned  Longley,  miles  away  and 
quite  unaware,  had  been  in  a  measure  concerned  and 
in  which  he  had  openly  helped  on  the  reward.  But 
her  smile  faded  in  another  thought  upon  which  she 
was  silent — a  wonder  what  his  mother  had  meant 
in  attributing  caution  to  Ned?  For  the  girl  had  a 
memory  of  him  when  his  strongest  characteristic  had 
been  daring,  even  to  recklessness,  but  splendid,  because 
it  was  to  save  others. 


TWO   PERFECT   DAYS  55 

"Nemo,  when  you  had  a  good  home,  why  didn't 
you  stay  in  it?"  questioned  Rex  with  real  vexation 
in  his  tones. 

"  A  somewhat  personal  remark  to  make  to  us  all !  " 
retorted  his  sister. 

There  followed  a  lively  discussion  as  to  what  was 
to  be  done  with  the  dog.  Everybody,  even  Rose 
Hewes,  put  in  a  word,  except  Dorothy  who  sat  silent, 
glancing  now  and  then  at  Nemo  who  still  remained 
with  his  head  against  her  knee  and  his  eyes  fixed  on 
her  face. 

"  Look  at  him ! "  cried  Priscy. 

"  Well,  Doro,"  said  Rex  at  last,  "  how  long  are 
you  going  to  reserve  your  opinion  ?  Out  with  it." 

"I  was  waiting  to  hear  somebody 'else  say  it,"  re- 
turned the  girl.  "  There  is  only  one  thing  that  we 
can  do — take  him  home  again,  and  tie  him  with  a 
tighter  collar  and  a  stronger  chain  this  time." 

A  shout  of  incredulity  and  protest  arose.  "  What !  " 
they  all  cried.  "  Go  back !  Return  all  that  distance ! 
Lose  two  days  of  the  trip !  Never !  "  Nobody  save  the 
maker  of  it  approved  of  that  suggestion. 

"He's  not  as  obedient  as  he  ought  to  be;  and  I'm 
afraid  something  will  happen  to  him,"  explained 
Dorothy.  "  I  should  feel  better  to  have  him  safe  at 
home." 

'  Then,  you'll  have  to  content  yourself  with  feeling 
well,  without  *  feeling  better/  I'm  sorry  to  say,"  cried 
Rex.  "  For  we  don't  for  a  moment  think  of  return- 
ing. It's  absurd  even  to  imagine  it!  There's  only 
one  choice,  and  I  leave  it  to  you  to  make  it:  Shall 


56        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

we  billet  Nemo  here  and  leave  him,  to  pick  him  up  on 
our  return  ?  Or  shall  we  take  him  with  us  ?  " 

"Oh,  we'll  take  him  with  us  by  all  means,"  she 
answered.  "We  may  want  to  return  by  a  different 
route.  I  am  foolish  about  him,  I  know,"  she  added. 
"Of  course,  he  will  be  all  right." 

" '  Of  course,  he  will  be  all  right,'  "  echoed  another 
speaker  whose  words  were  none  the  less  significant 
because  they  were  not  audible.  "  So,  the  dog's  hers  ? 
She's  silly  over  him,  just  like  these  uppish  folks ;  I  hate 
her !  Yes,  '  of  course,  the  dog  will  be  all  right,' "  he 
reiterated.  There  was  malice  in  his  tones  and  the 
eyes  fixed  upon  Dorothy  were  full  of  strong  dislike; 
she  had  been  the  means  of  procuring  him  a  sharp  rep- 
rimand, and  what  he  called  debts  of  revenge  he  never 
failed  to  pay  when  he  could.  For  the  shadow  that 
for  an  instant  darkened  one  and  then  another  of 
the  windows  looking  out  upon  the  veranda  was 
that  of  the  chauffeur.  Mrs.  Longley,  perceiving  it, 
looked  up. 

"  Manson  is  all  ready  for  us,"  said  Rex  also  catch- 
ing sight  of  the  passer-by.  "  I  must  say  he  works 
hard  to  keep  the  car  in  order,"  he  added.  "  He  break- 
fasted at  I  don't  know  what  unearthly  hour  and 
pitched  in,  and  he  has  been  at  it  ever  since." 

"I  dare  say  we  shall  learn  to  like  him;  I  suppose 
we  ought  to,"  said  Grace  in  an  undertone  to  Jimmy  as 
they  arose  from  the  table. 

"  I  don't  see  any  obligation.  I  never  shall  like  him." 
returned  the  other  in  the  same  key.  "  But  it's  not 
my  business." 


TWO   PERFECT   DAYS  57 

"  I'm  glad  though,  that  you  and  Ned  will  be  around 
if  anything  should  go  wrong,"  pursued  Grace.  "  It's 
hard  to  get  hold  of  anyone  for  just  a  time.  Our  own 
chauffeur,  you  know,  is  fine,  and,  in  essentials,  a  gen- 
tleman." 

"  And  this  one  is  neither,  Grace.  But  he  knows  how 
to  drive,  and  that's  the  only  thing  of  consequence." 
Some  day  Jimmy  might  change  his  mind  as  to  "the 
only  thing  of  consequence  "  in  the  chauffeur.  But  at 
present  there  was  nothing  tangibly  wrong,  and  the 
day  was  too  delightful,  the  scenery  too  beautiful  and 
the  company  too  gay  and  harmonious  to  allow  one  to 
dwell  upon  possibilities  of  evil. 

"  Behold  Monsieur  LTmprevu ! "  announced  Mrs. 
Longley.  And  as  she  entered  her  car,  she  pointed  to 
Nemo  already  occupying  a  seat  in  front  with  an  air 
of  triumph  that  set  them  all  laughing. 

"  He  rides  like  the  best,"  said  Ned ;  "  and  doesn't 
care  how  many  he  runs  over." 

The  dog  looked  from  one  merry  face  to  another 
and  gave  a  quick  bark. 

"Oh,  don't  laugh  at  him!"  cried  Grace.  "See 
him  hang  his  head.  It  is  said  that  animals  mind  ridi- 
cule even  more  than  we  do.  Once  I  made  a  cockatoo 
furiously  angry  with  me  by  laughing  at  him  for  swing- 
ing himself  to  sleep  so  drolly.  I  never  thought  of  hurt- 
ing the  poor  creature's  feelings." 

"That  you  didn't,  Grace!"  said  Dorothy.  "But 
Nemo  is  all  right  now,  even  to  his  collar."  For  from 
somewhere  Ned  had  fished  up  a  pierced  coin,  strung 
it  on  a  cord  and  running  a  ribbon  which  Dorothy  had 


58        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

supplied  through  this  cord,  had  hung  the  whole  around 
Nemo's  neck. 

"  Anyway,  you're  worth  a  quarter,  old  fellow ! " 
declared  Rex  examining  the  coin.  "  I  suppose  that's 
his  medal,  Longley?  He  looks  proud  enough  of 
it." 

Dorothy  said  nothing.  But  as  she  took  her  place 
in  the  car,  she  rested  her  hand  for  a  moment  on  the 
head  of  her  pet  and  thought  how  good  it  was  in  Ned 
to  have  taken  all  that  trouble ;  he  iiad  pretended  it  was 
a  joke;  but  she  knew  he  had  done  it  to  make  her  feel 
more  comfortable  because  Nemo  was  so  far  from  home 
without  his  collar. 

The  sky  was  perfect,  with  only  clouds  enough  to 
give  the  beauties  of  light  and  shade  to  the  landscape ; 
the  air  was  deliciously  fresh  when  the  sweep  of  the 
motor  cars  set  it  in  more  vigorous  motion  about  them ; 
the  country  through  which  they  passed  would  have 
aroused  enthusiasm  in  jaded  travelers.  The  chauffeur 
took  his  place  on  the  seat  beside  Nemo  and  as  he  did 
so  glanced  at  the  dog.  The  animal  responded  by  a  low 
growl.  Dorothy  glanced  significantly  at  Priscy  be- 
hind the  man's  back,  and  her  eyes  said :  "  Nemo 
doesn't  like  him,  either." 

"  I  don't  wonder ! "  flashed  back  Pell-Mell's  glance 
and  shrug. 

Then  they  were  off,  to  the  accompaniment  of  cheers 
and  waving  of  handkerchiefs  from  the  other  boarders 
at  the  hotel  who  by  this  time  had  assembled  on  the 
veranda  to  watch  the  start;  and  voices  'were  raised 
in  praise  of  the  beautiful  collie. 


TWO   PERFECT   DAYS  59 

"  Nemo's  forgotten  your  laughing  at  him,  now 
that  he  has  received  so  many  compliments,"  declared 
Dorothy  as  the  cars  spun  down  the  hill  and  bowled 
over  a  splendid  road. 

"  It  sounds  well  to  talk  of  taking  untraveled  paths 
and  seeing  new  landscapes  and  making  all  kinds  of 
.interesting  discoveries,"  declared  Rex.  "  But  when 
you  go  motoring,  you  don't  want  to  do  any  such 
things;  you  want  to  go  where  other  autos  run,  to 
make  sure  the  road  is  good.  We  can  stand  a  short 
cut  now  and  then  and  swallow  a  little  dust;  but  we 
don't  want  to  have  to  live  on  it." 

They  found  a  comfortable  hotel  where  they  lunched. 
Priscy,  however,  persisted  in  calling  it  "a  wayside 
inn  " ;  she  said  that  things  tasted  better  and  the  place 
looked  better  for  an  air  of  romance  thrown  over  it, 
and  it  didn't  cost  anything." 

"  Indeed,  it  does !  "  retorted  Ned.  "  It  costs  a  great 
stretch  of  imagination." 

"  Good  exercise  for  you,  then !  "  commented  Doro- 
thy, as  riding  beside  the  car,  he  talked  merrily  to  its 
inmates. 

"  Fine  for  you,  JVIiss  Brooke ! "  called  Jimmy  from 
the  other  side.  "  His  imagination  will  get  stiff  for 
want  of  exercise  if  you  don't  wake  him  up.  You 
can't  guess  what  a  sleepy  fellow  he  is ! " 

"You're  not  making  as  much  noise  in  the  world 
as  I  thought  you  would  do,"  said  Dorothy  laughing 
at  Ned's  puzzled  expression.  "  I  mean,"  she  added, 
"that  neither  of  your  cycles  makes  the  horrible  clat- 
tering I  expected."  And  she  turned  to  Jimmy. 


60        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"  The  best  is  never  the  noisiest,  you  know,"  he 
answered. 

"Between  you,  you've  spoile'd  my  retort,"  cried 
Ned.  "  I  was  going  to  say  I  was  waiting  for  your 
help,  Dorothy,  to  make  the  noise  in  the  world." 

"  It  strikes  me,"  called  out  Rex  who  as  they  were 
laughing  had  brought  his  car  alongside  in  the  broad- 
ened road,  "  that  if  you  two  fellows  pose  as  outriders, 
you  take  great  liberties — for  an  escort.  Mighty  im- 
pertinent outriders ! " 

"  He  says  that  because  you've  deserted  us  and  de- 
voted yourselves  to  the  other  car,"  explained  Lulu 
Bromley. 

"We  ought  to  be  one  and  one,"  returned  Jimmy, 
falling  back  as  Rex's  car  dropped  to  the  rear  again 
and  taking  his  place  beside  Grace. 

"  Oh,  dear ! "  warned  Miss  Knowles  anxiously. 
"  Why  don't  you  run  more  regularly  ?  You  go  dodg- 
ing about  so,  you'll  have  an  accident,  surely.  I  keep 
trembling  in  my  boots  to  see  you." 

"  How  loose  her  boots  must  get !  "  commented  Rex 
very  low  to  Lulu. 

But  she  dared  answer  him  only  by  a  swift  glance 
of  amusement ;  Miss  Knowles  was  too  near  for  words. 
In  another  moment,  however,  Lulu  heard  Grace's 
sweet  voice  striving  to  allay  the  other's  anxieties. 

The  motor  cars  rolled  on  through  a  country  so 
beautiful  that  for  a  time  Lulu  sat  silent  in  the  delight 
of  it.  Rex  watched  her,  remembering  the  things 
which  Dorothy  had  told  him  about  this  interesting 
girl  beside  him  with  her  highbred  air  and  the  repose 


TWO   PERFECT   DAYS  61 

of  leisure  in  her  attitude.  He  understood  that  she 
rested  well  because  she  could  work  well;  for  Doro- 
thy with  no  mention  of  her  own  efforts  to  help  her, 
had  spoken  at  home  of  Lulu's  hard  struggle  to  main- 
tain herself  at  school  the  previous  year  when  the 
greater  part  of  the  money  for  her  school  expenses  had 
been  withdrawn  and  of  how  excellently  she  had  suc- 
ceeded; but  that  now  matters  had  changed  for  the 
better  and  Lulu  was  free  to  devote  herself  to  study 
alone;  yet  that  she  would  still  do  outside  work  and 
thus  be  enabled  to  send  her  brother  to  college  when 
that  time  should  come.  Rex  admired  her  courage  and 
her  devotion  to  the  little  fellow  whom  he  hoped  she 
would  one  day  have  reason  to  be  proud  of.  He 
admired,  too,  the  slender  grace  of  her  figure,  the 
strength  and  intelligence  in  her  face  which  heightened 
the  charm  of  her  fine  features  and  delicate  coloring; 
and  her  keen  enjoyment  of  the  drive  and  the  scene 
delighted  him.  The  silence  lasted  for  some  time.  Lulu 
seemed  to  have  forgotten  her  companion,  until  as  they 
turned  into  the  road  leading  along  the  banks  of  the 
beautiful  river  of  which  they  had  caught  glimpses  as 
they  had  drawn  nearer  to  it,  she  turned  to  him. 

"  With  such  a  day  and  such  a  scene,  and  such  a  car 
gliding  with  the  very  ideal  of  motion,  what  more 
can  one  want  ? "  she  asked.  "  Aren't  you  perfectly 
happy,  Mr.  Brooke?"  She  looked  so  herself  as  she 
spoke. 

"And  a  girl  like  Miss  Bromley  to  enjoy  it  with 
me,"  he  added,  smiling  at  her. 

"'A    girl    like    Miss    Bromley'?    Who  is  she?". 


62        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

she  echoed  lightly.  "  I  should  like  to  see  my  double 
— just  out  of  curiosity." 

"  You  never  will ! "  he  said  responding  with  quick 
perception  to  her  mood.  "  Miss  Bromley's  equal  does 
not  exist."  His  manner  allowed  her  to  accept  the 
speech  in  the  spirit  of  banter  and  to  answer  it  in  the 
same,  although  she  felt  a  ring  of  earnestness  in  his 
tones.  After  a  few  more  jesting  words,  she  returned 
to  the  view  before  her,  and  to  a  merry  talk  upon  im- 
personal subjects. 

The  river  with  its  many  windings  which  in  places 
made  it  broaden  as  if  it  were  a  lake,  the  wooded  bank 
on  the  opposite  shore  with  glimpses  of  paths  strewn 
with  pine  needles  and  towered  over  by  giant  trees  as 
if  grown  in  the  forest  primeval,  the  shining  of  the 
rippling  water,  as  in  its  miles  it  narrowed  toward  its 
source,  and  at  last  the  lake  from  which  it  flowed  with 
the  gleaming  sand  of  its  shores  and  here  and  there  its 
pebbly  coves  which  seemed  made  for  the  beaching  of 
the  row  boats  and  sail  boats  which  dotted  its  surface ; 
the  succory  by  the  roadside,  blue  as  the  heavens  and 
here  and  there  a  touch  of  goldenrod,  as  if,  having 
arrived  too  early,  it  yet  determined  to  hold  its  own 
against  the  day  when  the  fields  should  glow  with  it 
— the  world  in  view,  from  the  hills  on  the  far-off 
horizon  to  the  hard  road  beneath  the  wheels,  all  over- 
arched by  a  cloudless  sky  made  the  hours  of  the  drive 
a  delight  to  be  long  remembered.  The  car  in  front  of 
Rex's  slackened  speed  and  Mrs.  Longley  called  back 
that  such  miles  of  joy  as  these  were  going  too  fast; 
and  both  cars  bowled  along  at  a  pace  so  leisurely  that 


TWO   PERFECT   DAYS  63 

the  occupants  of  a  car  scorching  past  and  throwing 
dust  into  their  faces  glanced  back  to  see  what  was  the 
matter  with  these  "  snails  "  ? 

That  night  the  travelers  found  a  pleasant  stopping- 
place.  Another  day  followed  that  one,  duplicating  it 
in  many  happy  ways,  the  scenery  different,  for  they 
were  upon  a  gradual  but  almost  constant  ascent,  yet 
always  beautiful.  At  the  end  of  this  day  the  party 
drew  up  at  a  large  house  among  the  hills  but  fronting 
an  opening  in  these  so  that  it  commanded  a  magnifi- 
cent view  of  the  surrounding  country. 

"  You've  chosen  the  very  spot  to  stay  over  a  day 
in,  Mrs.  Longley ! "  said  Dorothy  as  they  stood  on 
the  steps  of  the  veranda  waiting  for  the  others  to  join 
them.  "  And  it  would  not  be  hard  to  stay  more  than 
a  day  if  only  we  had  the  time." 


A   PICNIC  AND   A   DISASTER 

JIMMY  REID  between  his  bites  of  sandwich  stood 
watching  Rose  Hewes  with  curiosity.  What  was  she 
doing?  She  had  quite  forgotten  her  luncheon,  and 
she  sat  with  her  back  to  the  others  and  her  eyes  riveted 
upon  the  landscape.  It  was  a  delightful  spot  under 
the  pine  trees  and  the  view  looking  out  over  the  beauti- 
ful country  was  really  grand,  he  told  himself.  But 
was  she  studying  it?  Did  she  enjoy  it  as  much  as 
that  ?  He  walked  over  to  Dorothy. 

"  Look  at  Miss  Hewes,"  he  said  to  her  in  an  under- 
tone. "  She  makes  me  think  of  the  newspaper  story 
of  the  young  lady  just  arrived  in  Venice,  and  full  of 
enthusiasm.  She  wrote  home:  'Here  I  am  at  my 
window  looking  out  on  the  Grand  Canal — drinking  it 
all  in!'" 

Dorothy  laughed.  "But  Rose  is  the  most  appre- 
ciative of  us  all,"  she  said. 

"  She's  afraid  to  talk,  or  else  she  would  have  some- 
thing to  say  about  it,"  returned  Jimmy.  "  But,  all 
the  same,  she'll  be  hungry  by  and  by  if  she  doesn't 
remember  to  eat  something  now." 

Dorothy  nodded  and  smiled  her  thanks  at  him  as 
she  handed  him  a  plate  to  pass  to  her  guest.  "  Rose, 
do  have  one  of  these  delicious  cakes,"  she  said.  "  You 

64 


A   PICNIC   AND   A  DISASTER          65 

don't  know  how  good  they  are;  you  are  not  eating 
anything." 

The  girl,  suddenly  conscious  of  her  abstraction, 
blushed  crimson  and  seized  upon  the  cake  with  an 
avidity  which  came  from  her  embarrassment.  Then 
she  looked  about  her  as  if  to  atone  for  former  in- 
difference, and  began  to  pass  the  dainties  to  one  and 
another.  She  did  it  so  quickly  and  so  deftly  that 
Miss  Knowles  whispered  to  Mrs.  Longley :  "  She  has 
had  practice  waiting  table  at  her  own  home." 

Rose  did  not  catch  her  words,  but  she  felt  the  tenor 
of  the  speech.  Later,  she  confided  to  Dorothy :  "  I 
never  care  a  bit  if  I  have  waited  on  you  and  Mrs. 
Brooke ;  but  I  grow  hot  all  over  when  I  remember  how 
I  had  to  wait  on  Miss  Knowles." 

"  If  you  never  do  anything  more  to  be  ashamed  of 
than  that,  Rose  Hewes,  you  will  make  all  your  friends 
proud  of  you,"  laughed  the  other. 

"You  hunt  for  amusement,  old  fellow;  but  when 
luncheon  comes,  you're  sure  to  be  on  hand — eh, 
Nemo  ? "  said  Rex  as  the  dog  came  bounding  over 
the  grass  and  turned  his  gaze  anxiously  from  the 
speaker  to  Dorothy.  "  He  is  trying  to  find  out  which 
of  us  has  most  of  what  he  wants,"  laughed  the  young 
man.  "  Go  to  your  mistress,  sir;  I'm  busy — eat- 
ing!" 

"Yes,  come  here,  old  fellow,"  cried  Dorothy.  "I'll 
begin  the  feast  for  you,  sweetmeats  first,  like  the  Jap- 
anese. It's  such  fun  to  see  him  eat  these  caramels," 
she  said  addressing  the  company.  "  Do  look,  every- 
body. The  dear  thing  gets  his  teeth  all  stuck  up  so 


66        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

that  he  can  hardly  move  his  jaws — though  he's  the 
very  funniest  with  molasses  candy — he  keeps  shak- 
ing his  head  and  grunting,  and  I  imagine  that  at  last 
he  sucks  it ;  for,  after  a  while  he  gets  free  and  always 
comes  back  for  more." 

As  she  spoke,  some  instinct  made  her  turn  her  head 
to  the  left.  There,  coming  along  the  path  from  the 
wood  was  the  chauffeur  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  Nemo 
and  on  the  box  of  candy  in  Dorothy's  hand. 

She  held  it  toward  him.  "  Come  and  get  some 
candy,  Mr.  Manson,"  she  said.  "  And  there's  plenty 
of  luncheon  for  you ;  you  must  be  hungry  if  you  have 
been  walking  all  the  morning." 

After  an  instant's  hesitation  the  young  man  came 
forward  saying  that  he  had  taken  a  long  walk  through 
the  woods,  he  liked  scenery.  He  would  be  glad  of  a 
bite,  for  he  should  be  half  starved  by  the  time  he  got 
back  to  the  hotel. 

"  I  hope  he  found  scenery  in  the  woods !  "  murmured 
Lulu  to  Mrs.  Longley. 

As  Manson  stood  making  an  inroad  upon  the  good 
things  offered  to  him,  he  watched  the  dog  who  after 
a  hasty  bite — for  this  was  not  his  usual  time  for 
eating,  had  begun  his  gambols  again.  Nemo  liked  to 
drive  in  a  motor  car,  "like  folks";  he  enjoyed  his 
treatment,  for  petting  suited  him  exactly.  But  al- 
though not  quite  so  wildly  jubilant  as  he  had  been  the 
previous  day  when  he  had  seemed  to  plan  to  exercise 
to  the  full  every  muscle  in  his  body  cramped  by  hours 
in  the  motor  car,  he  was  yet  full  of  spirits  and  found 
it  impossible  to  keep  still  more  than  a  few  moments 


A   PICNIC   AND   A   DISASTER          67 

at  a  time.  Now,  after  coming  back  again  to  Dorothy 
for  candy  which  he  devoured  more  speedily  than  usual, 
he  ran  around  the  company,  barking  with  delight  and 
landed  with  his  fore  paws  on  Dorothy's  shoulders, 
almost  knocking  her  over. 

"Behave,  sir!  "  cried  Rex. 

"Oh,  he's  just  happy,"  said  the  girl.  "I  like  to 
see  him  frisk ;  he's  making  up  for  lost  time." 

As  she  spoke,  a  peculiar  expression  crossed  the  face 
of  the  chauffeur.  As  Nemo  came  toward  him,  he 
whistled,  and  the  dog  approached  and  allowed  himself 
to  be  patted. 

"Ah!  he  has  made  friends  with  Nemo.  That's 
good ! "  thought  the  girl. 

But  the  next  moment  the  creature  was  off  again, 
greeting  vigorously  one  and  another. 

"Oh,  don't  let  him  jump  on  me!"  cried  Miss 
Knowles  shrinking.  "I — I — like  dogs — on  the 
ground,  of  course.  But  I  hope  he  won't  jump  on  me ; 
he's  so  big,  you  know." 

Nemo,  however,  immediately  showed  this  not  to  be 
at  all  his  purpose  by  disappearing  at  full  speed  after 
something  he  had  seen,  or  thought  he  had  seen  in 
the  bushes. 

"  Children,  as  I  live !  Where  did  they  spring 
from  ?  "  cried  Dorothy.  The  chauffeur  with  voluble 
thanks  had  disappeared  in  the  direction  of  the  hotel, 
saying  that  he  was  enjoying  his  holiday.  For  the 
party  had  decided  to  walk  instead  of  driving  home 
from  the  foot  of  the  cliff  where  they  were  picknicking 
and  to  explore  some  places  of  interest  which  they 


68        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

had  not  reached  the  previous  day;  and  Mrs.  Longley, 
an  enthusiastic  botanist,  wanted  to  gather  a  few  more 
specimens  of  the  flora  of  the  neighborhood. 

"Wherever  they  sprang  from,  they're  ready  for 
candy,  I'll  warrant,"  laughed  Rex  as  the  two  little 
ragged  fellows,  cordially  invited,  stood  before  Doro- 
thy, and  with  thanks  much  less  voluble  but  more  sin- 
cere than  the  chauffeur's  received  and  devoured  the 
remaining  contents  of  the  box  of  candy,  together  with 
other  remnants  of  the  feast.  This  done,  they  dis- 
appeared as  unexpectedly  as  they  came. 

"  Where  can  they  have  vanished ! "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Longley. 

"They  live  round  here  somewhere,  you'd  find  on 
investigation,"  said  Jimmy. 

"  No,  I  do  believe  they're  brownies,"  declared 
Priscy.  "  Only,  brownies  always  do  something." 

"  Didn't  they  eat  as  if  that  was  the  business  of  life  ?  " 
laughed  Ned. 

"Yes;  but  Priscy's  right;  they  ought  to  do  some- 
thing if  they  are  real  brownies,"  persisted  Dor- 
othy. 

The  day  was  clear,  and  at  that  altitude,  for  they 
were  now  in  the  foothills  of  the  mountains,  not  too 
warm.  After  the  rest  on  the  top  of  the  cliff  where 
Rose  was  not  the  only  one  who  delighted  in  the  ex- 
panse of  valley,  wood  and  mountain  lake  spread  out 
before  them,  they  came  down  the  steep  path,  the  young 
men  especially  solicitous  that  nobody's  foot  should 
turn  in  the  descent,  and  everybody  gathering  such 
'flowers  as  Mrs.  Longley  would  like  best.  So  they  went 


A   PICNIC   AND    A   DISASTER          69 

on  through  pastures  where  blueberries  in  tempting 
abundance  clustered  on  the  low  bushes  at  their  feet 
and  caused  many  a  detour  when  one  and  another  spied 
an  especially  tempting  bush  and  left  it  with  hands 
full  of  the  sweet  berries  and  outstretched  to  offer  these 
to  the  others.  Here  the  beautiful  dog  with  his  in- 
telligent eyes,  his  too  intrusive  paws  and  his  waving 
plume  of  a  tail,  seemed  not  in  one  place  at  a  time,  but 
in  every  place  at  once. 

Thus  they  went  on  to  the  woods,  and  sat  down 
there  to  rest  and  finish  the  fruit  which  they  did  not 
want  to  carry  further. 

"  I  never  expected  to  see  mamma  take  the  stump !  " 
cried  Ned  as  Mrs.  Longley  amidst  the  laughter  of  the 
young  people,  seated  herself  on  all  that  had  been  left 
standing  of  one  of  the  forest  giants  and  gathered  her 
flowers  more  compactly — a  somewhat  difficult  mat- 
ter considering  the  additions  which  the  others  were 
constantly  making  to  her  collection. 

"  Ned,  what  time  is  it  ?  "  she  said  at  last.  And,  find- 
ing the  hour  later  than  they  had  thought,  she  rose  in 
haste,  and,  still  in  haste,  went  along  the  wooded  path 
that  led  to  the  road  down  which  they  must  still  walk 
a  mile  to  the  hotel.  It  was  in  this  wooded  path  that 
the  catastrophe  happened.  The  long  loop  of  a  trailing 
vine  with  both  ends  rooted  in  the  ground,  caught  Mrs. 
Longley's  foot  as  she  hurried  forward.  She  discovered 
it  all  too  late  by  her  foot  being  held  fast  while  she 
was  flung  to  the  ground. 

Grace  beside  her  mother  uttered  a  cry  of  conster- 
nation ;  but  she  could  not  raise  her  until  Dorothy  and 


70        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

Rose  from  behind  came  running  up  and  the  others  in 
advance  hearing  the  calls,  rushed  to  the  rescue. 

Mrs.  Longley  had  twisted  her  ankle  in  her  fall ;  she 
could  not  put  the  injured  foot  to  the  ground,  and  as 
she  stood  supported,  she  grew  so  pale  with  pain  that 
Dorothy  feared  she  would  faint.  The  girl  ran  to  the 
picnic  basket.  There  was  a  little  water  left  in  the 
water  bottle;  this  she  poured  into  a  tumbler  and  ran 
to  give  to  her.  With  what  was  left  Dorothy  moistened 
her  handkerchief  and  laid  it  against  Mrs.  Longley's 
forehead  and  face. 

"  How  you  always  know  what  to  do,  Dorothy," 
sighed  Grace  who  had  been  too  frightened  to  do  more 
than  stand  with  an  arm  about  her  mother. 

"  I  had  a  long  experience  when  my  mother  was  ill 
last  winter,  you  remember,  Grace.  See,  she  is  better 
now,"  the  speaker  went  on  watching  Mrs.  Longley. 
"  She  will  be  all  right  when  we  get  back  to  the  hotel." 

But  this  was  no  easy  task.  Ned  and  Rex  made  a 
chair  by  crossing  hands  and  the  injured  lady  with  an 
arm  about  the  shoulder  of  each,  was  borne  along  the 
forest  path,  here  and  there  so  narrow  as  to  require 
skill  to  make  the  passage  three  abreast  and  always 
slippery  with  the  pine  needles.  But  at  last  the  young 
men  placed  her  in  safety  upon  a  bank  by  the  road- 
side. 

"  I'll  run  and  get  my  car,"  volunteered  Rex. 
"  There's  no  knowing  what  has  become  of  your  chauf- 
feur ;  he  had  the  day,  didn't  he  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Mrs.  Longley.  "  You  are  so 
kind."  The  tone  and  the  quick  acceptance  assured 


A   PICNIC   AND    A   DISASTER          71 

Rex  that  she  was  suffering  much.  In  another  instant 
he  was  off  and  lost  to  sight  in  a  bend  in  the  road. 

"  Is  the  pain  very  bad,  mamma  dear  ?  "  asked  Grace, 
her  eyes  full  of  tears  as  she  bent  over  her  mother. 

"  It  can  be  borne,"  answered  Mrs.  Longley,  speak- 
ing as  if  even  words  were  too  much  exertion,  for  she 
needed  all  her  strength  to  repress  her  moans. 

Priscy  Pell  dropped  on  her  knees  beside  her,  and 
taking  her  hands  smoothed  them  with  that  gentle 
touch  which  Dorothy  knew  so  well  could  soothe  pain 
where  it  could  not  cure  it.  Mrs.  Longley,  who  at 
first  had  felt  that  she  could  not  endure  the  restraint 
of  any  touch  without  losing  the  self-control  she  was 
struggling  so  hard  to  maintain,  soon  found  that 
Priscy  helped  her  to  this,  and  with  her  eyes  thanked 
the  girl  for  the  loving  service. 

"I'm  so  awfully,  awfully  sorry,"  mourned  Miss 
Knowles.  "  I  do  pity  you  so.  I  wish  I  could  do 
something  for  you.  It  was  too  bad  you  hurried  so; 
you  remember  I  had  just  been  telling  you  about  my 
friend  who  slipped  on  the  ice  and  broke  her  arm." 

"  There  was  no  ice  here,"  responded  Mrs.  Longley, 
the  quiver  of  a  smile  on  her  face. 

"Oh,  no,  no.  But  then,  of  course,  one  may  slip 
on  anything." 

"  Even  common  sense ! "  muttered  Dorothy  in  an 
aside  to  Grace,  who  nodded  back  in  silence. 

"  Wouldn't  it  ease  your  foot  to  put  it  up  ?  Can't  I 
lift  it  up  for  you?"  pursued  Miss  Knowles,  full  of  a 
real  sympathy  that  could  find  no  way  of  relieving  it- 
self. 


72        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

Mrs.  Longley  winced  at  the  bare  suggestion  as  she 
thanked  her.  "Only  keep  Nemo  away,"  she  added 
hastily,  as  the  dog  seemed  about  to  bound  toward  her. 

"  I  could  do  anything  else,"  returned  the  other  as 
Dorothy  with  a  sharp  command  to  Nemo  seized  him 
and  pulled  him  back. 

It  seemed  impossible  that  Rex  could  have  gone  that 
distance,  got  out  his  machine  and  returned  in  the  time 
he  did. 

While  the  two  young  men  were  placing  Mrs.  Long- 
ley  in  the  car — a  thing  difficult  to  do  without  causing 
her  exquisite  pain,  for  by  this  time  her  ankle  was  very 
badly  swollen — Dorothy  succeeded  in  getting  Nemo 
upon  the  front  seat,  where  he  perched  himself  aloft 
with  an  air  of  importance.  Rex  was  to  drive,  Grace 
and  Dorothy  to  accompany  Mrs.  Longley  to  see  that 
everything  was  made  right  for  her  when  she  arrived ; 
the  others  were  to  walk.  Grace  was  beside  her 
mother  and  Dorothy  just  springing  in  beside  Rex 
when  Nemo  saw  something  move  in  the  bushes  by 
the  roadside.  In  an  instant  he  was  out  of  the  car 
and  off. 

For  a  single  moment  Dorothy  paused  in  dismay ;  he 
would  wander  off,  he  would  be  lost.  But  a  suppressed 
groan  from  Mrs.  Longley  decided  her  that  she  could 
not  wait  even  a  minute  for  the  dog.  "  Will  you  bring 
him"?  "  she  begged  Ned,  who  was  beside  the  car. 

"  Yes,  yes,  we'll  bring  him !  "  answered  the  whole 
party  in  chorus.  And  the  motor  car  was  off — at  half 
speed,  not  to  jar  Mrs.  Longley. 

As  soon  as  the  sufferer  had  been  carried  to  her 


A    PICNIC    AND    A   DISASTER  73 

room,  Rex  was  off  for  the  doctor.  This  time  the  car 
did  not  go  at  half  speed. 

It  was  more  than  two  hours  before  Mrs.  Longley 
had  been  made  as  comfortable  as  possible  under  the 
circumstances,  which  was  not  saying  much,  for  she 
still  suffered  a  great  deal.  But  as  there  was  then 
nothing  more  for  Dorothy  to  do,  and  Grace  wished 
to  stay  with  her  mother,  as  her  friend  could  well  un- 
derstand, the  latter  looked  up  Rex. 

"You  found  Nemo?"  she  questioned  anxiously. 

"  Not  yet.  But  I'm  going  to.  How  is  Mrs.  Long- 
ley?  What  has  she  done  to  her  ankle?" 

"  Sprained  it,  the  doctor  says — worse  than  if  she 
had  broken  it  by  some  fractures,  not  as  bad  as  by 
others,  however.  So,  we  must  take  comfort." 

"  How  long  a  business  is  it  going  to  be  ?  " 

"A  week  or  tea  days  under  the  most  favorable 
conditions." 

"  That  means  we  stay  here." 

"Of  course,  it  does,  Rex.  That's  a  small  part  of 
the  disaster.  The  pain  for  poor  Mrs.  Longley  is 
dreadful.  I'm  glad  this  place  is  so  good,"  added  the 
girl.  "  There  are  ever  so  many  interesting  things  we 
can  do  here  as  she  is  getting  better." 

"  Yes,  indeed ! — ever  and  ever  so  many !  "  mim- 
icked her  brother.  "I  think,"  he  added,  "that 
I'll "  He  stopped. 

"That  you  will  what,  Rex?" 

"Oh,  nothing  to-night.  Just  go  to  bed  as  soon  as 
you  can — have  you  had  anything  to  eat?  Or  has 
Grace?" 


74        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"  Yes,  she  had  something  brought  up  with  her 
tnother's  dinner.  I'm  just  going  to  the  table." 

"  It's  so  late  I'm  afraid  you  won't  get  anything. 
I'll  go  with  you." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Rex !    I  should  be  so  glad." 

"Umph!  You  queer  girl!  You  wouldn't  have 
asked  me." 

"  I'm  not '  a  beggar  born ! '  "  she  quoted,  smiling  up 
at  him. 

Priscy  and  Lulu  and  Ned  came  up  at  the  moment 
and  joined  them,  to  keep  Dorothy  company  as  she  ate 
her  dinner. 

"  You'll  sit  up  and  watch  for  Nemo  ?  "  she  said  to 
her  brother  the  last  thing  as  she  bade  him  good-night. 

"  And  I'll  sit  up  with  him  until  the  dog  comes  in," 
declared  Ned.  "  I  did  my  best  to  bring  him  home 
with  us/*  he  added.  "  But  he  was  after  a  chipmunk, 
I  suppose;  as  we  came  past  the  wood  we  saw  him 
away  off  in  a  field  out  of  reach  of  our  voices — and  he 
wouldn't  have  minded  us  anyway — racing  along  at  the 
top  of  his  speed.  We  had  waited  until  it  was  getting 
late,  and  then  I  left  Jimmy  to  come  home  with  the 
rest  and  tried  an  hour  longer  to  get  Nemo,  but  he 
would  not  answer  my  call.  The  others  sauntered  all 
the  way  here,  hoping  he  would  join  them." 

"Oh,  he'll  come  in  all  right  this  evening,  Doro;  he 
always  does,  you  know.  Don't  worry ;  go  to  bed  and 
to  sleep,  and  leave  him  to  Longley  and  me,"  said  Rex. 

But  there  was  still  another  on  the  lookout  for  Nemo 
— another  of  whose  watching  the  two  on  the  hotel 
veranda  that  evening  knew  nothing. 


VIII 

DISTRESSING     NEWS 

DOROTHY  did  not  sleep  well.  She  was  distressed 
about  Mrs.  Longley.  Although  the  physician  had 
given  assurance  that  the  sprain  was  not  serious  if 
properly  cared  for,  it  was  bad  enough  to  have  to  suffer 
as  she  was  doing.  Then,  it  would  have  been  so  good 
to  have  been  able  to  hear  from  Rex  himself  that  it 
was  all  right  with  Nemo.  But  in  this  hotel  her 
brother's  room  was  at  a  great  distance  from  her  own, 
and  she  had  to  take  the  dog's  safety  on  faith. 

The  next  morning  she  was  downstairs  early.  Rex 
also  wanted  to  be  assured  of  what  he  told  himself  he 
already  knew  certainly,  so  that  before  the  others  ap- 
peared the  brother  and  sister  met  on  the  veranda.  As 
Rex  greeted  her  he  seemed  to  be  looking  behind  her, 
yet  it  was  Dorothy  who  first  asked  the  question. 

"Where  is  Nemo?"  she  said. 

"  Why,  they  told  me  he  had  come  in  and  gone  up- 
stairs, and  I  took  it  for  granted  he  had  gone  to  your 
room  and  you  had  taken  him  in." 

"And  he's  not  been  in  all  night!"  cried  the  girl 
pale  with  dismay.  "Oh,  Rex,  why  didn't  you  tell 
me  sooner?  Why  didn't  you  wait  for  him?" 

"Longley  and  I  sat  out  there  until  after  twelve 
o'clock.  Then  the  clerk  came  and  told  us  he  had  seen 

75 


76 

a  big  dog,  which  he  was  quite  sure  was  ours,  come 
into  the  hall  from  a  side  door  and  go  upstairs;  from 
what  he  said  of  him,  I  was  sure  it  was  Nemo.  It 
seemed  strange  he  should  not  have  come  to  us;  still, 
I  thought  it  was  all  right;  so  we  went  to  bed.  It 
is  only  since  I  came  down  this  morning  that  I  found 
that  another  great  dog  arrived  with  a  party  of  four 
in  a  motor  car  last  evening." 

"And  that  was  the  dog  the  clerk  saw  going  up- 
stairs !  "  exclaimed  Dorothy.  "  Oh,  Rex !  Rex !  what 

has  become  of  Nemo?  I  wish "  Then  she 

stopped.  Her  brother,  too,  loved  the  dog,  and  this 
was  not  the  time  to  reproach  him  with  having  re- 
fused to  turn  back  with  Nemo;  no  one  but  she  herself 
had  wanted  to  do  that. 

"  Oh,  he'll  turn  up  all  right,  Doro,"  said  the  young 
man  with  an  air  of  more  assurance  than  he  felt. 
"  Don't  you  remember  how  once  he  was  gone  twenty- 
four  hours,  and  he  came  back  all  right?  Directly 
after  breakfast  I'll  go  and  look  for  him." 

"  Yes ;  and  I  will,  too,"  returned  the  girl. 

"Yes,  and  we'll  all  go,"  said  a  voice  behind  her; 
and  there  was  Ned  with,  for  Rex,  a  face  of  concern, 
which,  however,  as  Dorothy's  eyes  fastened  upon  him, 
he  turned  to  a  smile  of  security  as  to  Nemo's  safety. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Ned,"  she  answered.  "  I'm  sure 
you  will  help.  How  soon  will  breakfast  be  ready,  I 
wonder?  I've  been  to  see  your  mother  this  morning," 
she  added.  "Grace  wouldn't  let  me  stay  with  her 
last  night — I  think  though,  it  was  more  your  mother 
who  refused,  I  shouldn't  have  minded  Grace.  Mrs. 


DISTRESSING    NEWS  77 

Longley  said  this  morning  that  she  had  rested  better 
than  she  had  expected;  she  had  a  good  deal  of  pain, 
but  she  was  prepared  for  that ;  and  she  said  that  now 
if  there  was  any  difference  from  last  night  in  the  pain, 
it  was  less  rather  than  more;  you  know,  she  always 
makes  the  best  of  things.  I  can't  even  now  wish  she 
hadn't  come  with  us,"  said  Dorothy;  "but  I'm  so 
grieved  for  this." 

"  So  is  everybody,  I  know,"  he  answered.  "  But 
I  don't  feel  anxious.  I'm  sure  she  is  safe  in  bed; 
so,  I'm  giving  my  thoughts  at  this  moment  to  the  dog." 

"  Rex  will  take  the  motor  car,  and  we'll  go  every- 
where," she  said. 

"  We'll  take  both  cars,"  returned  Ned.  "  And  we 
will  all  go  except  Grace  who  will  stay  with  mamma, 
and  perhaps,  Miss  Knowles  who  may  help  her  and  can't 
help  us.  -But  we  won't  go  everywhere,  because  we'll 
find  him  long  before  we've  been  so  far.  I'll  tell  Man- 
son  to  be  ready  in  half  an  hour." 

"  Oh,  thank  you !  "  cried  Dorothy.  "  And  I'll  order 
breakfast,  and  see  if  the  others  are  not  nearly  ready 
for  it?" 

Before  turning  away  to  go  into  the  house  she  bent 
earnest  looks  in  every  direction  and  sent  her  call  which, 
hitherto,  Nemo  had  always  heeded,  in  search  of  the 
missing  dog — but  with  no  result.  As  she  stood  there, 
her  bright  young  face  pale  and  troubled,  her  eyes  heavy 
with  unshed  tears,  a  face  in  the  distance  peered 
through  the  trees  and  eyes  watched  her  with  satis- 
fied amusement.  She  would  watch  a  long  time,  said 
the  gazer  to  himself,  before  that  beautiful  creature 


78        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

would  bound  upon  her  in  answer ;  she  would  call  long 
and  wait  in  vain  for  the  bark  of  joyous  response  that 
would  never  come.  Good  enough  for  her!  And  the 
eyes  caught  themselves  back  from  their  gloating,  and 
the  face  withdrew  from  its  pressure  against  the  leafy 
screen  in  time  to  escape  discovery. 

It  was  a  hard  and  sad  day's  work;  for  no  search 
and  no  calling  and  whistling  discovered  any  sign  of 
Nemo.  The  chauffeur  as  one  who  had  lived  in  the  re- 
gion and  knew  the  country,  directed  the  search,  and 
he  swept  a  wide  tract.  More  than  once  Jimmy 
watched  him,  his  eyes  narrowing  as  he  did  so.  But 
he  could  not  determine  whether  the  ghost  of  a  smile 
which  from  time  to  time  he  saw  hovering  about  Man- 
son's  lips  came  from  his  inward  contempt  of  their 
making  such  ado  about  a  dog,  or  whether  he  had  some 
secret  cause  of  amusement.  Once  he  asked  him  sud- 
denly : 

"  Don't  you  know  anything  about  him,  Manson  ? 
It  seems  as  if  he  must  have  come  back  near  the  hotel, 
anyway." 

"Have  no  more  idea  than  you  have  where  he  is 
now,"  returned  the  chauffeur.  "  How  should  I  have  ? 
He  isn't  fond  of  me ;  he  wouldn't  come  to  me." 

"That's  true,"  said  Dorothy.  "He'd  have  been 
more  likely  to  come  directly  to  the  hotel  if  he  had 
been  near  here.  How  far  he  must  have  wandered 
away ! " 

"  Them  hunting  dogs  isn't  reliable,"  observed  Man- 
son;  "they  go  off  after  everything,  and  there's  no 
knowing  where  they'll  bring  up." 


DISTRESSING    NEWS  79 

Yet  from  time  to  time  Jimmy  still  studied  the  man 
suspiciously;  but  his  suspicions  were  wide  of  the 
terrible  truth. 

The  chauffeur  proposed  this  road  and  that  one,  and 
they  traveled  slowly,  searching  and  calling.  Every 
now  and  then  the  cars  stopped  by  the  side  of  woods, 
and  Rex,  Ned  and  Jimmy  beat  the  bushes  well  in 
these.  But  in  vain.  Manson  was  never  tired  of  mak- 
ing suggestions,  and  he  took  the  searchers  a  circuit 
of  many  miles.  But  no  one  had  seen  or  heard  of  a 
dog  like  the  one  described. 

If  they  had  expected  to  find  Nemo,  they  should 
have  searched  much  earlier,  and  in  a  different  place. 

For,  some  time  before  Rex  and  Ned  had  established 
their  watch,  the  dog  had  come  out  upon  the  road  at 
a  distance  from  the  hotel  and,  trotting  along  toward 
it,  had  been  intercepted  by  the  sound  of  a  familiar 
voice  and  the  odor  of  raw  meat.  While  eating  the 
piece  thrown  to  him,  a  collar  had  been  slipped  over 
his  head  and  fastened  to  this  collar  was  a  strong  chain. 
This  in  the  hand  of  a  vigorous  man  had  drawn  him 
slowly,  and  with  care  not  to  awaken  his  resentment, 
out  of  the  course  that  he  was  choosing,  and  after  a 
time  into  the  woods  again  and  in  the  general  direction 
of  the  cliff  on  which  the  picnic  had  been  held.  Here 
when  restraint  had  grown  irksome  to  the  dog  and  his 
leader  become  one  whose  domination  he  resented,  an- 
other piece  of  meat  for  a  while  conquered  his  reluc- 
tance and  he  had  allowed  himself  to  be  led  on,  reas- 
sured now  and  then  by  the  familiar  voice.  When  the 
meat  gave  out,  molasses  candy  had  been  offered  to 


8o        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

him  and  accepted  readily.  This  occupied  him  for 
quite  a  time. 

Meanwhile,  he  had  been  going  on  at  the  speed  of 
a  good  walker  still  through  the  woods ;  but  these  were 
not  thick  and  the  moon  was  bright.  After  a  while 
he  had  grown  very  tired  of  being  led  and  had  pulled 
hard  at  his  chain;  but  the  hand  that  held  him  had 
only  taken  tighter  grasp  and  Nemo  had  gone  on  up  a 
steep  and  steeper  path  and  through  woods  now  grown 
more  dense,  until  his  leader  had  stopped  before  a  house 
in  a  cleared  space  where  stumps  of  trees  and  the 
general  roughness  of  the  ground  seemed  to  declare 
the  place  to  be  only  a  temporary  residence.  As  Nemo 
uttered  a  sharp  bark  the  door  opened  and  a  man  came 
out. 

"  Here  he  is  at  last ! "  said  he  holding  the  chain. 

*'  What  a  splendid  specimen ! "  cried  the  other. 
"  I'm  delighted  with  him ;  he's  worth  what  I  promised 
you  for  him — and  that's  more  than  I  can  say  of  my 
specimens  in  general.  I  never  had  such  a  big  one 
before.  Bring  him  along,"  he  added;  "we'll  tie  him 
up  here  for  the  night." 

Nemo  was  now  uttering  sharp  barks  and  the  long 
growls  with  which  these  ended  uplifted  his  lip  and 
showed  two  immense  rows  of  gleaming  teeth.  The 
speaker  glanced  at  them  with  what  seemed  to  his  ob- 
server anxiety  as  he  pointed  to  an  outbuilding  a  few 
rods  from  the  house  and,  without  touching  the  dog, 
allowed  the  other  to  precede  him. 

"You'd  better  make  him  sure,"  said  the  one  who 
had  brought  him. 


A    PRIZE    FOR    THE    VIVISECTIONIST. 


DISTRESSING    NEWS  81 

"Certainly.  And  I  shall  have  to  get  somebody  to 
manage  him  with  me  to-morrow,"  returned  the  other 
as  he  took  the  chain  thrust  into  his  hand  and  began  to 
fasten  Nemo  securely  to  a  ring  in  the  wall  of  this 
building  from  the  further  corner  of  which  came  sounds 
which  checked  Nemo's  barks  in  fear — sounds  of  some 
creature  in  pain. 

As  the  man  busied  himself  with  securing  the  chain, 
the  beautiful,  almost  human  eyes  of  the  dog  fastened 
themselves  upon  his  face  with  a  look  of  question  and 
pleading  full  of  pathos. 

But  his  jailer  never  even  glanced  at  them.  "  Can't 
you  come  to-morrow  and  help  me  ?  "  he  asked  the  man 
who  had  brought  Nemo.  "  I'll  pay  you  well  for  it." 

"  No,  you  bet  I  can't ! "  returned  the  other.  "  I've 
run  risk  enough  now  to  have  my  head  taken  off  for 
it — 'f  only  they  could  do  it !  And,  besides,  I've  some 
other  business  on  hand."  A  chuckle  followed  the 
latter  remark.  "  No,  you  bet  I  can't  come,"  he  re- 
peated. "I'm  in  deep  enough  now." 

"It's  all  right,  isn't  it?"  inquired  the  listener,  more 
as  a  matter  of  form  than  with  real  interest. 

"You  bet  it's  all  right!"  retorted  Nemo's  guide. 
"  Don't  go  poking  your  nose  into  what  don't  belong 
to  you  to  mind." 

"That  I  won't!"  laughed  the  other.  "Trust  me 
for  that!  Specimens  are  hard  enough  to  come  by 
in  this  out-of-the-world  spot.  But  this  one  is  fine  for 
work! "  he  added  more  to  himself  than  his  companion. 
"Is  he  hungry?"  he  asked  with  sudden  recollection 
pointing  over  his  shoulder  as  he  turned  away. 


82        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"  Not  much ! "  laughed  the  other.  "  But  it  wouldn't 
do  no  harm  to  water  him.  You'll  see  then  he's  all 
right." 

The  purchaser  of  Nemo  filled  a  pail  with  water  and 
set  it  down  before  the  dog  who  drank  eagerly.  "  Yes, 
I  see  he's  all  right,"  said  the  new  owner,  "  only,  he  has 
a  temper.  But  one  can't  expect  everything ;  he'll  make 
the  best  specimen  I've  ever  got  hold  of — will  stand  the 
most  investigation,  that's  the  way  we  put  it,  we  say 
we  '  investigate '  them ;  it  sounds  more  agreeable  than 
the  other  word  which  some  fools  object  to." 

"  Fools  they  are ! "  retorted  the  first  man  as  he  fol- 
lowed on  into  the  house  and  received  with  great  satis- 
faction his  pay  for  his  evening's  work. 

"  You'd  rather  have  low  denominations — small  bills, 
you  say  ?  "  demanded  the  other  as  he  handed  him  a 
sizable  roll.  "Count  the  money  now,  and  sign  this 
receipt." 

But  the  receiver  backed  away.  "  Oh,  no ! "  he  cried, 
"  I  won't  sign  anything — no,  no,  I  won't  have  my  name 
mixed  up  in  this.  You've  got  your  dog  an'  I've  got 
my  money,  and  that's  enough." 

"  You  will  certainly  sign  the  receipt  for  that  money 
— or  you  won't  leave  the  house  with  it."  And  the 
speaker  caught  up  something  as  small  as  a  toy  lying 
on  his  desk  and  turned  it  upon  the  refuser. 

The  latter  shivered.  He  could  not  travel  so  fast 
as  could  the  shot  from  that  pistol.  He  was  in  the 
depths  of  the  woods,  far  away  from  help;  and  the 
money  he  must  have.  Slowly  he  approached  the  paper 
lying  on  the  table  for  him  and  looked  it  over. 


DISTRESSING    NEWS  83 

"Oh,  you  haven't  mentioned  the  dog;  you've  just 
said  'specimen,'"  he  remarked;  and,  as  if  satisfied, 
he  dipped  his  pen  several  times  into  the  ink  in  the  man- 
ner of  one  unwonted  to  much  use  of  the  former, 
wrote  his  name,  and  turned  away.  Then  he  hesi- 
tated, turned  back  and  took  up  the  pen  again.  "  I'll 
be  square,"  he  said.  "  I  hain't  put  my  own  name 
down  there.  Make  me  out  another  paper  and  I'll  put 
it  down  right."  And  he  reached  out  his  hand  for  the 
paper  which  he  had  pushed  across  the  table. 

But  the  other  took  up  the  first  receipt  and  tearing 
it  into  bits,  threw  it  into  the  waste  basket.  "Yes, 
I'll  do  that,"  he  said,  and  writing  another,  pushed  it 
across  the  table  again.  This  the  man  signed,  and  de- 
parted. The  man  who  had  bought  the  dog  looked 
thoughtfully  for  a  moment  after  the  vanishing  figure. 
"I  can't  tell  which  time  he  fooled  me,"  he  muttered. 
"  But,  on  the  whole,  I'd  as  lieves  not  know." 

That  evening  Ned  seated  himself  beside  Dorothy 
on  the  veranda  steps.  His  eyes  and  voice  were  full 
of  sympathy.  "We'll  begin  over  again  to-morrow 
morning,"  he  said ;  "  and  then  we  will  be  sure  to  find 
him.  I  suppose  somebody  saw  him  wandering  about 
and  took  possession  of  him.  You  know,  dogs  have 
been  shut  up  in  barns  sometimes,  and  it  has  kept  them 
from  worse  things." 

"  But  we  asked  everybody  we  could  find  yesterday," 
she  answered,  not  looking  up  at  him,  for  her  eyes 
were  full  of  tears.  He  knew  it.  "  I — I  think  I'll  go 
and  sit  with  your  mother  a  while  now,"  she  said. 


84        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"I've  been  away  from  her  all  day.  But  she  under- 
stands why." 

"Indeed,  she  does.  Remember,  Dorothy,  we  have 
a  pet  dog,"  he  went  on.  "  We  all  know  exactly  how 
you  feel ;  but  don't  be  discouraged.  '  To-morrow 
brings  another  day/  "  he  quoted. 

"Yes,  and  it  will  bring  a  good  day,"  said  Priscy, 
as  she  spoke  putting  her  arms  about  Dorothy's  neck, 
and  dropping  to  the  seat  on  the  other  side. 

The  following  morning  breakfast  was  a  perfunctory 
meal  to  several  of  the  young  people;  and  they  were 
all  standing  on  the  veranda  waiting  for  Manson  to 
bring  up  the  car,  and  for  Rex  who  had  just  started 
for  the  garage.  But  when  half  way  there  he  turned 
back  with  two  boys  at  his  heels.  As  they  drew  nearer, 
Jimmy  looked  at  them  critically;  they  were  the  boys 
who  had  appeared  at  the  picnic  and  whom  Dorothy 
had  fed  with  caramels  and  other  good  things. 

"  These  boys  want  to  see  '  the  lady  what  owns  the 
big  dog/  "  began  Rex.  "  I've  not  stopped  to  ask  more ; 
we'll  share  the  news  if  they  have  any.  Now,  young- 
sters, go  ahead." 

But  the  little  fellows  had  sighted  Dorothy  even 
before  she  sprang  to  her  feet  and  went  toward  them. 
"Can  you  tell  me  anything  of  the  big  dog?"  she 
asked  trying  to  keep  her  voice  steady.  "  Have  you 
seen  him?  Where  is  he?  Take  me  to  him,  boys, 
this  moment;  and  you  shall  have  more  than  candy. 
Oh,  don't  keep  me  waiting!"  she  cried  as  the  boys 
stood  looking  up  at  her  then  glancing  at  one  another. 
"  Don't  you  see  I  want  him  now  ? "  she  insisted. 


DISTRESSING    NEWS  85 

"  I  guess  p'raps  you  won't  want  him  now,  missis," 
returned  the  elder  of  the  two,  having  with  his  eyes 
consulted  his  companion.  "  'Cause  I  guess  by  this 
time  there  won't  anybody  want  to  see  him." 

Dorothy  turned  so  pale  that  Rex  who  had  joined 
her  put  an  arm  about  her ;  she  did  for  an  instant  lean 
heavily  against  him;  but  she  was  not  of  the  fainting 
kind,  and  she  must  know  about  Nemo.  In  another 
moment  she  had  controlled  her  trembling ;  but  her  hand 
grasped  his  arm  with  a  tenseness  that  showed  what 
the  self-control  cost  her.  "Go  on!"  she  cried  to 
the  children.  "  Go  on ! " 

At  the  sharp  decision  of  her  tone  they  told  how  they 
had  from  their  home  that  morning  heard  the  distant 
barking  of  a  dog.  "We  knew  he  was  barking  real 
loud,  only  we  was  so  far  away,"  said  the  elder ;  "  an' 
we  follered  the  noise  till  we  come  to  the  place  the  man 
has  what  stays  here  in  the  summer  an'  does  the  queer 
things.  Out  in  his  barn  there  was  a  dog  a-howlin'. 
We  peeped  in,  an'  we  seed  'twas  the  dog  you  was 
feedin'  with  candy  that  day  you  give  us  some  up  on 
the  cliff.  As  we  was  watchin',  the  man  come  out; 
so  we  hid.  He  unhitched  him  and  took  him  into  the 
house.  But  first  he  give  him  somethin'  to  eat  an* 
then  he  was  quiet  and  stupid  like.  Say,  missis,  did 
you  put  him  there  ?  We  guessed  p'raps  you  was  fond 
of  him,  like  you  seemed  that  day.  An*  this  is  the 
man  what  cuts  up  dogs  an'  things,  ties  'em  onto  a 
board  an'  cuts  'em  up  by  bits,  yer  know.  Anyway, 
we  thought  we'd  tell  yer  about  it." 

Dorothy's  every  nerve  was  quivering,  every  muscle 


86        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

tense.  No  tears !  No  instant  to  waste !  She  gripped 
the  older  boy  by  the  hand.  "  Show  me  where  the  man 
lives,"  she  said.  "Run!  Run!  Run  your  fastest! 
Come  this  instant !  Which  way  ?  " 

But  the  boy  stopped  a  moment  to  answer  Ned. 
"  It's  a  good  two  mile  through  the  woods,"  he  said. 
"You  can't  take  them  autos — no  road,  you  have  to 
walk."  But  he  had  no  chance  to  tell  him  more;  for, 
still  gripping  the  boy's  hand,  Dorothy  was  off,  hurry- 
ing his  swift  feet.  "  P'raps  you  can't  see  him,  missis. 
P'raps  he's  all  cut  up  by  this  time,"  volunteered  the 
child  glancing  with  pitying  comprehension  at  her  set 
face. 

"  Don't  wait  to  speak !  "  she  cried.  "  Go  on !  Go 
on!" 

Grace  and  Miss  Knowles  were  with  Mrs.  Longley. 
The  others  all  followed  Dorothy  as  fast  as  they  could, 
with  no  word,  but  with  looks  among  themselves  of 
pity  and  dread  for  her. 

Dorothy  had  only  one  thought — Nemo  in  the  hands 
of  a  vivisectionist ! 

"  Faster !  Faster !  "  she  cried  to  the  child  beside  her 
as  they  tore  along  the  woodland  path,  slipping,  slid- 
ing, but  never  slackening  pace. 


IX 

RESCUE  AND  REWARD 

"WHAT  a  strong-  fellow  he  is!"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Splinter  examining  his  purchase  with  great  satisfac- 
tion the  morning  after  Nemo's  arrival.  "Doesn't 
like  his  quarters !  "  he  laughed  as  the  dog  strained  his 
utmost  at  his  chain.  "  Been  used  to  better,  no  doubt ! 
Do  your  utmost,  my  good  fellow,  you  won't  get  off 
from  that  chain — until  you  get  something  you'll  like 
less!" 

As  he  spoke,  a  cruel  smile  spread  over  his  face. 
Mr.  Splinter  always  assured  himself  that  he  was  work- 
ing in  the  interests  of  science  and  that  his  labors, 
arduous  as  they  were,  did  good  to  his  fellow-men; 
he  was  deaf  to  assurances  of  scholars  much  more 
learned  than  he  would  ever  be  that  the  boasted  bene- 
fits were  largely  mere  boasts  unsupported  by  evidence, 
and  that  no  appreciable  gain  in  results  had  followed  a 
method  of  such  barbarity.  Moreover,  practice  had 
blunted  his  never  keen  sensibilities;  he  now  preferred 
operating  without  choloform,  as  a  few  had  always 
done;  he  believed  that  results  were  better,  or  he  told 
himself  he  believed  this;  at  any  rate  it  was  much  less 
trouble  and  expense,  and  as  to  the  agony  to  its  help- 
less victims — what  did  he  care  for  that  ?  That  morn- 
ing as  he  stood  looking  at  Nemo,  already  in  his  mind's 

87 


88        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

eye  he  saw  the  dog  on  the  operating  table,  enduring 
torture  while  the  skilful  knife  found  its  way  into  the 
mysteries  of  his  organism,  or  pretended  to  do  so. 

"Hello!  my  good  fellow!"  he  called.  "I've 
brought  you  your  breakfast.  Don't  make  such  a  bark- 
ing! Shut  up!  Shut  up!  Your  time  hasn't  come 
yet ;  I'm  too  busy  to  touch  you  to-day ;  we'll  see  about 
you  bright  and  early  to-morrow.  I  do  wish  Simmons 
was  here,"  he  muttered  looking  with  a  certain  dread 
at  Nemo's  size  and  strength ;  "  that  fellow  will  be 
hard  to  tackle;  but  he'll  reward  me  all  the  better." 
Nemo  sniffed  at  the  coarse  food,  turned  away  from 
it  and  resumed  his  audible  complaints,  tugging  vio- 
lently and  vainly  at  his  chain.  He  wondered  that  no 
one  heeded  his  cries  which  usually  he  had  only  to  begin 
faintly  to  bring  the  whole  Brooke  family  to  the  spot 
to  learn  what  had  happened.  "  Stop  that  infernal 
howling!"  roared  Mr.  Splinter  as  Nemo's  barking 
went  on  still  more  loudly;  and  as  his  voice  only  irri- 
tated the  dog  the  more,  he  grew  angry  himself.  "  Stop 
that  noise  this  instant — or  I'll  give  you  a  good  beat- 
ing !  "  he  raged,  putting  his  face  down  to  Nemo's. 

But  he  drew  it  back  hastily.  For  the  dog  uttering 
a  furious  growl,  made  a  spring  at  him  the  full  length 
of  his  chain,  curling  his  upper  lip  and  displaying  two 
rows  of  glittering  teeth  set  in  jaws  that  opened  and 
closed  like  a  vice. 

"Oh!  oh!  This  won't  do!"  ejaculated  Mr. 
Splinter  retreating  to  a  safe  distance,  his  eyes  still 
fixed  as  in  fascination  upon  the  furious  dog.  In  that 
position,  he  reviewed  the  situation  in  monologue. 


RESCUE   AND   REWARD  89 

"For  the  best  results,"  he  muttered,  "the  law  is: 
'Keep  the  subject  as  far  as  possible  in  a  calm  and 
natural  state  up  to  the  opening  of  the  experiments. 
Most  unlucky  that  Simmons  is  away;  I  never  needed 
an  assistant  more — or  as  much.  I  would  wait  over 
a  day,  or  even  two,  for  him;  but  he  won't  be  back 
for  a  week,  and  that's  too  long;  too  much  might  hap- 
pen. And  besides,  I  should  be  out  of  work.  I  can 
get  rabbits  and  other  small  fry  in  the  woods;  but  I 
have  long  wanted  a  big  dog,  and  I  must  make  the  best 
of  him — yes,  the  very  best.  When  once  I  get  you, 
sir,  you  won't  howl — only  because  you  can't!  So, 
make  the  most  of  it  now  if  you  will.  As  to  your 
breakfast,  you'll  eat  what  I  give  you,  or  if  you  prefer, 
nothing.  What  do  I  care?  I  suppose  I  shall  have 
to  give  him  some  meat  to-night  though,"  he  added  as 
he  turned  away,  "  to  keep  him  from  getting  too  fero- 
cious with  hunger — that  won't  do." 

All  that  long  day  poor  Nemo  saw  no  other  human 
face,  nor  even  Mr.  Splinter's  again  until  after  dark 
the  vivisectionist  came  in  bringing  meat  of  much  better 
quality  which  the  dog  was  too  hungry  to  refuse.  With 
this  and  plenty  of  fresh  water  he  was  left  to  himself 
for  that  night. 

For  a  time  the  howling  ceased ;  the  dog  was  probably 
asleep.  But  very  early  the  following  morning  it  be- 
gan again;  and  it  was  this  that  the  boys  whose  home 
was  not  far  from  the  cliff  of  the  picnic,  and  thus,  no 
great  distance  as  the  crow  flies  from  Splinter's  sum- 
mer laboratory,  had  heard  so  persistently  that  they  had 
investigated.  They  had  discovered  that  the  dog  des- 


90       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

tined  to  vivisection  belonged  to  that  lovely- faced  lady 
who  had  given  them  candy — and  so  much  of  it.  She 
should  at  least  be  informed  that  her  pet  was  in  trouble. 

"Anyways,"  commented  the  younger  one,  "she 
don't  look  like  she  wanted  her  dog  cut  up." 

"  Not  much !  "  responded  the  other.  "  I  guess  that 
feller  trapped  him,  like  as  he  does  rabbits  and  things." 

Hiding  in  the  barn  until  they  perceived  that  Splinter 
had  quieted  the  dog  and  was  occupied  undoing  his 
chain,  they  had  slipped  out  and  fled  to  Dorothy. 

The  vivisectionist  felt  himself  above  the  work  of 
securing  his  victims  upon  the  operating  table;  the  as- 
sistant was  accustomed  to  do  this  with  occasional 
slight  aid  from  himself.  In  the  present  case,  however, 
there  was  nothing  else  to  be  done ;  and  he  set  to  work 
with  such  promptness  that  by  the  time  poor  Nemo  had 
fully  aroused  from  the  effects  of  the  drug  given  to 
quiet  him,  he  found  himself  so  firmly  strapped  to  the 
operating  table  that  any  motion  whatever  beyond  mov- 
ing his  eyes  was  impossible  to  him;  at  the  same  time 
the  gag  in  his  mouth  was  so  tight  as  to  prevent  more 
than  a  low  moaning. 

Was  the  beautiful  creature,  so  full  of  fidelity  and 
affection,  wondering  in  his  artless  canine  mind  as  he 
lay  there  what  had  become  of  all  the  friends  who  until 
now  had  seemed  to  woo  his  love  with  love,  but  now 
had  left  him  all  alone  with  enemies  who  were  going 
to  do  with  him  he  knew  not  what,  only  that  the  terror 
of  it  was  making  his  heart  beat  against  the  cords  which 
bound  him  so  hard  that  they  seemed  to  be  cutting 
through  him  whenever  he  made  the  least  struggle  to 


RESCUE   AND   REWARD  91 

move?  Mr.  Splinter's  hand  passing  over  him  made 
this  all  the  worse ;  but  he  had  no  power  even  to  growl 
his  horror  of  the  touch. 

"The  fellow  will  have  to  quiet  down  a  bit,"  said 
the  vivisectionist,  talking  to  himself  as  he  had  a  habit 
of  doing.  "And  I  must  rest  awhile  until  my  hand 
is  steady.  It  was  no  fun  tackling  that  creature  all 
by  myself;  I  did  it  though.  When  Simmons  finds  it 
out,  he  won't  put  on  airs  any  more  as  being  so  neces- 
sary to  me.  Ha !  ha !  ha ! " 

After  a  time  Nemo's  panting  grew  less,  although 
he  was  in  too  much  fear  and  pain  to  rest.  His  quick 
ears  were  strained  to  the  utmost  for  a  sound  of  familiar 
footsteps  and  voices.  But  there  was  nothing — noth- 
ing! 

Splinter  was  in  haste  to  begin;  his  time  was  too 
valuable  to  waste. 

"Ah,  yes,  now  he  has  quieted  down  a  good  deal," 
he  muttered  to  himself;  and  again  he  passed  his  hand 
over  the  dog's  side.  As  he  did  so  Nemo  uttered  what 
all  his  efforts  could  make  only  a  stifled  moan.  It 
seemed  as  if  he  swelled  out  against  this  fearful  and 
oppressing  hand  until  he  would  have  burst  his  cords 
had  they  been  only  a  little  less  strong.  "  Um ! "  com- 
mented Splinter,  "  immensely  fierce.  But  it  won't 
hurt  us ! "  he  smiled. 

He  went  to  his  case;  chose  his  instruments  with 
care ;  examined  their  edges ;  and  smilingly  approached 
his  victim. 

"The  first  thing,"  he  said,  still  in  his  low  mono- 
logue, "  is  to  strip  off  the  flesh  here  and  lay  bare  this 


92        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

great  muscle.  Much  more  will  follow;  he  will  live 
several  days ;  I  shall  work  every  day  upon  him.  But 
first  of  all,  I  must  shave  off  the  hair  from  his  side." 
He  laid  down  his  instrument,  and  taking  up  a  razor, 
did  this. 

The  scion  of  science — as  he  called  himself — thrilled 
to  exultation  at  his  task,  and  going  back  to  the  in- 
strument, he  took  it  up  again,  sought  the  desired  place 
with  exactitude ;  and  then  the  glittering  steel,  first  care- 
fully poised  in  the  air,  descended. 

Agony  spoke  in  the  watching  eyes  of  the  dumb  and 
motionless  creature  awaiting  it. 

Near  and  nearer,  but  still  too  far  away,  raced  the 
swift  feet  of  Nemo's  rescuers.  They  could  not  in- 
terpose between  the  frightful  weapon  and  the  help- 
less victim.  It  seemed  to  Dorothy  that  she  was  run- 
ning in  a  dream  where  something  constantly  held  her 
back ;  yet  she  sped  so  fast  that  Rex  and  Ned  had  ado 
to  keep  up  with  her  and  even  the  children  were  put 
to  their  mettle.  When  less  than  half  a  mile  remained 
to  go  Rex's  hand  was  for  an  instant  on  her  shoul- 
der. 

"We  shall  go  first,  Doro,"  he  said  as  Ned  sped 
past  her.  Then  her  brother  released  her  again  and 
also  darted  on  ahead.  They  must  learn  first  what 
Dorothy  was  to  meet. 

They  were  all  yet  quite  a  distance  from  his  house, 
however,  when  Splinter's  hand  armed  with  its  deadly 
steel,  descended  with  a  straight  aim. 

But  it  did  not  reach  its  victim. 


RESCUE   AND   REWARD  93 

Midway,  it  wavered,  halted — and  turned  itself  help- 
lessly against  the  empty  air! 

For  his  wrist  had  been  caught  in  an  iron  grasp. 
Through  the  doorway  had  one  rushed  in  and  at  a 
single  leap,  caught  and  struck  upward  the  down-rush- 
ing arm. 

"Hands  off!"  cried  a  stern  voice.  "A  dog  lost 
hereabouts!  Are  you  the  thief?  Or  the  receiver  of 
stolen  goods?  Prove  property  at  once.  Hold  off 
until  you  do." 

Splinter,  thus  masterfully  set  upon,  did  what  any 
other  man  in  like  case  would  have  done — he  resisted. 
His  free  hand  struck  out  at  the  man  who  was  holding 
his  other  in  such  a  grip;  its  blow  was  only  warded 
off  by  the  skill  of  the  stranger.  "L'et  me  alone!" 
he  cried. 

"Let  us  stop  this  horse  play,"  said  the  first  voice. 
"Lay  down  that  thing  and  let  me  speak  to  you.  I 
am  a  follower  of  science;  but,  thank  Heaven!  not  a 
slaughterer  of  the  innocents." 

"Sir!"  exclaimed  Splinter  resentfully.  But  as  it 
was  evident  that  he  could  not  immediately  go  on  with 
his  intended  occupation,  he  laid  down  the  instrument 
close  beside  Nemo  and  turned  flashing  eyes  upon  the 
interrupter. 

"  Permit  me,"  said  the  newcomer.  And  releas- 
ing Splinter,  he  took  up  this  knife  and  placed  it  care- 
fully in  the  case  lying  on  another  table.  "The  dog 
is  still  so  terrified,"  he  explained ;  "  let  us  reassure  him 
a  little.  Poor  fellow !  poor  fellow ! "  And  he  passed 
a  gentle  hand  over  Nemo's  quivering  body,  patted  his 


94        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

head  softly,  and  said  a  few  soothing  words.  Then 
he  turned  to  Splinter  who  was  watching  with  the  secret 
suggestion  that  if  he  had  an  assistant  like  this  man, 
work  would  be  much  easier.  But  the  stranger  was, 
evidently,  a  person  of  better  position  than  his  own, 
the  vivisectionist  recognized  the  authority  in  his  tone ; 
it  was  this  to  which  he  had  yielded  as  much  as  to  the 
other's  request  to  him  to  delay  until  they  had  talked 
over  the  matter.  "I  arrived  at  the  hotel  late  last 
night,"  said  the  stranger.  "  I  also  brought  a  dog  with 
me  and  learned  there  that  a  very  valuable  one  had  been 
lost.  This  morning  while  Mrs. — my  wife — was  still 
sleeping,  I  took  a  stroll,  and — my  walk  brought  me 
here,  in  time,  I  am  convinced,  to  save  you  from  an 
act  having  consequences  most  unpleasant  to  you.  I 
cannot  identify  the  dog,  for  I  have  never  seen  him 
before;  but,  shortly,  you  will  find  that  I  am  right. 
Under  the  circumstances,  you  ought  to  know  who  I 
am."  And  he  handed  the  other  his  card. 

As  Splinter  read  the  bit  of  pasteboard  his  face 
lighted,  his  manner  changed  to  a  welcome  almost  ful- 
some; he  could  not  express  his  delight  at  meeting  so 
distinguished  a  man;  he  should  be  only  too  glad  to 
prove  to  him  that,  although  vivisectionists  had  a  bad 
name — among  ignorant  people,  of  course — they  were 
scrupulous  in  obeying  the  law  in  regard  to  the  method 
of  acquiring  their  subjects  for  experiments.  He  had 
bought  this  dog  and  paid  a  high  price  for  it.  If  he 
had  taken  the  person  who  sold  it  to  him  to  be  honest, 
when  he  was  not 

'A  sound  of  many  rushing   feet  interrupted  him. 


RESCUE    AND   REWARD  95 

The  door  was  flung  open,  and  Ned  and  Rex  leaping 
in,  threw  a  hasty  glance  at  the  table  on  which  lay 
Nemo. 

"Come,  Dorothy!"  they  called  to  the  girl  already 
at  their  back;  and  they  made  way  for  her  as  with  a 
stifled  cry  she  ran  to  the  dog  and  flung  her  arms 
about  him  and  rested  her  head  on  his — but  only  for  a 
moment. 

"  Unbind  him,  Rex ! "  she  cried,  her  eyes  ablaze. 

But  Ned  was  the  quicker;  he  caught  up  the  razor. 
"Still,  Nemo !— still !"  he  ordered.  The  noble  dog 
with  an  absolute  faith  never  stirred  a  muscle  as  the 
keen  steel — not  forged  for  ropes  and  tanned  hides — • 
severed  his  bonds  as  if  they  had  been  gossamer,  and 
turned  its  edge  in  doing  it.  The  next  moment  the 
dog  was  free  as  air. 

He  sprang  upon  Dorothy  with  barks  of  rapture  and 
greeted  Rex  and  Ned  with  warmth.  Then,  suddenly, 
his  expression  changed,  and  with  a  deep,  menacing 
growl,  he  sprang  at  Splinter.  In  that  instant  the  man 
comprehended  his  deserts — all  at  once  the  dog  and 
he  had  changed  places;  he  was  terrified. 

Rex  and  Ned  both  fell  upon  Nemo  to  drag  him 
back;  the  stranger  also  sprang  forward.  Splinter 
cringed  backward  his  utmost  and  put  up  his  arm 
to  ward  off  the  dog  from  his  throat.  But  Nemo  had 
caught  them  all  at  unawares;  his  mouth  was  open, 
his  gleaming  teeth  about  to  set  themselves  deep  in  his 
enemy's  flesh — when  Dorothy's  hand  thrust  itself  into 
his  mouth  and  held  him  by  the  tongue ;  her  other  hand 
clasped  on  his  head,  drew  him  backward;  and  the 


96        DOROTHY   BROOKE'S    VACATION 

ring  of  power  and  command  in  her  voice  subdued 
the  dumb  brute  who  loved  her. 

But  in  another  instant  a  hand  closed  over  hers  and 
intercepted  between  it  and  the  dog's  teeth.  "  How 
dare  you  do  such  a  thing,  Dorothy !  "  cried  Ned.  And 
with  his  other  hand  he  pulled  hers  away  without 
roughness  to  Nemo. 

"  It's  fine  for  you  to  talk  to  me  about  daring ! "  she 
retorted.  "  Haven't  I  seen  you " 

Suddenly,  she  stopped  and  set  herself  to  soothing 
the  revengeful  animal.  It  was  not  the  time  or  the 
place  to  remind  Ned  how  he  had  once  held  his  own 
life  lightly  for  others;  it  was  no  business  of  hers  to 
remind  him  of  that  at  all;  it  was  only  a  memory  of 
her  own. 

"Well!"  cried  the  stranger  when  Nemo's  collar 
and  chain  furnished  to  Splinter  by  the  person  who  had 
brought  him  had  been  found  and  the  dog  was  held 
in  leash  by  his  mistress — "well !  I  take  it,  Mr.  Splin- 
ter, you  need  no  further  evidence  that  your  proposed 
victim  was  not  sent  you  by  the  freewill  of  his  owners ! " 

The  vivisectionist  was  thankful  that  matters  had  not 
gone  further  and  was  profuse  in  apologies.  It  was 
while  he  was  making  these  that  the  others  of  the  party 
who  had  been  outrun  by  their  fleeter  companions  ap- 
peared. 

As  they  were  all  leaving  the  house,  Dorothy  lifted 
her  beautiful  eyes  to  the  face  of  the  stranger,  not 
trying  to  hide  the  tears  in  them.  "  I  can  never  thank 
you  enough  for  saving  Nemo  to  us,"  she  said  to  him. 
"It  was  a  miracle  that  brought  you  here." 


RESCUE    AND   REWARD  97 

"  I  owe  you  far,  far  more  than  you  owe  me,"  he 
returned  with  an  earnestness  deeper  than  courtesy. 
Then  his  tone  changed  and  he  added  lightly :  "  It  was 
more  than  a  miracle  that  brought  me  here,  Miss 
Brooke;  two  miracles  did  it.  There  they  stand." 
And  he  pointed  to  the  two  boys  who  had  hitherto  stood 
amazed  spectators  of  the  scene  before  them. 

But  at  this  reference  to  themselves,  the  older 
cried :  "  Yes,  missis,  we  met  him  and  we  told  him  we 
was  a-goin'  fur  you,  but  he'd  better  hurry  up  an*  git 
here,  'cause  you  mightn't  be  in  time." 

The  girl  turned  and  held  out  a  hand  to  -each.  "  You 
must  come  back  to  the  hotel  with  me,"  she  said.  "  But 
why  didn't  you  say  that  you  had  told  this  gentleman  ?  " 

"You  didn't  give  me  no  time  to  tell  nothin',"  said 
the  little  fellow. 

"I'm  afraid  I  didn't,"  answered  Dorothy.  "You 
see,  I  was  in  such  a  hurry ! " 

"  You  bet ! "  returned  the  other. 

"Yes;  come  along  to  the  hotel,"  cried  Ned;  "and 
you  shall  have  the  best  dinner  you  ever  had." 

"  Oh,  oh ! "  cried  the  children.  "  An'  ice-cream, 
too,  like  big  picnics  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed !  "  laughed  Ned.  "  Ice-cream  until 
you  say  you  don't  want  any  more — oh,  dear!  what  if 
they  shouldn't  have  it  to-day?"  he  whispered  aside 
to  Lulu. 

"  They  always  do,"  she  answered  encouragingly. 

"  And  you  shall  have  more  than  ice-cream,  boys," 
declared  Rex.  "  Come  on." 

It  was  when  the  children  were  sitting  with  sighs 


98       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

of  repletion  before  their  fourth  saucer  of  ice-cream 
which  they  bitterly  regretted  that  they  could  not  finish, 
that  Dorothy  said :  "  Those  boys  are  good  little  fel- 
lows, or  they  would  never  have  done  what  they  have. 
Food  and  a  little  money  are  not  all  we  ought  to  give 
them.  They  would  go  to  school  here  in  the  village  if 
they  had  decent  clothes;  I've  asked  them." 

"I'll  take  them  to  the  swellest  tailor  in  A ," 

laughed  Rex,  naming  the  nearest  city;  "and  then 
they'll  have  an  auto  ride  thrown  in.  How  would  you 
like  that,  my  men?" 

And  this  was  what  really  happened  to  them. 

"  After  all,  Dorothy,  they  were  brownies,"  said 
Rose  Hewes.  "They  did  something." 

That  evening  Priscy  was  very  silent.  For,  the 
stranger  who  had  saved  Nemo  from  the  clutches  of 
Mr.  Splinter  and  whom  everybody  else  had  greeted 
with  so  much  respect  was  Colonel  Pell — her  own 
father. 


X 

WHAT    DOROTHY    DARED 

"DiD  you  notice  how  she  greeted  him?"  asked 
Lulu  Bromley.  "  Or  were  you  too  busy  with  Nemo  ?  " 

"  Did  I  notice ! "  echoed  Dorothy.  "  It  seems,  Lulu, 
as  if  I'd  been  thinking  of  nothing  else  since.  I  know 
he  deserved  it ;  all  those  years  of  coldness  and  neglect 
of  her  count.  But  we  don't  always  like  to  be  around 
when  people  get  their  deserts.  And  it  often  happens 
that  they  get  them  after  they're  sorry  for  what  they've 
done  and  want  to  begin  over  again  the  right  way." 

"  But  I'm  not  sure  he  would  have  been  sorry  if 
Priscy  had  been  left  as  she  was  when  she  came  to 
school,"  returned  Lulu — "  if  you  had  not  taken  her  in 
hand,  Dorothy,  and  brought  out  the  best  in  her,  as 
you  did." 

"And  how  as  to  what  you  did  yourself,  Lulu?  It 
was  wonderful." 

"  Oh,  well ;  that  was  different.  I  coached  her  talk- 
ing, and  she  paid  me  handsomely  for  it " 

"What  you  did  for  her  was  worth  that,"  inter- 
rupted the  other.  "  She  began  to  talk  well  almost  at 
once ;  I  don't  see  how  you  managed  it." 

"  Let  me  go  on,"  said  Lulu.  "  I  coached  her  for 
money,  as  I  said.  But  you  took  her  to  your  hearth 
and  home — that  means,  your  room — for  love ;  not  for 

99 


ioo       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

love  of  her,  but  for  love  of  being  lovely  yourself,"  she 
ended  with  a  smile  which  shone  through  a  mist  in  her 
eyes. 

"  It  turned  out  well,"  said  Dorothy.  "  Nobody  de- 
serves to  be  loved  more  than  Pell-Mell — although  some 
do  as  much,  Lulu,  remember  that!  And  Priscy  is 
bright  and  sometimes  witty;  she  would  shine  in  so- 
ciety." 

"Exactly  what  her  step-mother  thinks!"  cried  the 
other.  "  And  she's  dying  to  get  hold  of  her  and  show 
her  off  and  make  her  own  house  more  attractive.  I 
perceived  that  the  few  minutes  I  saw  them  together. 
I  can't  say  I'm  anxious  to  have  her  succeed." 

"That's  not  it  at  all,"  said  Dorothy.  "But  my 
own  father  is  so  much  to  me,  I  do  want  Pell-Mell's 
to  be  something  to  her,  Lulu.  You  know  how  it  is." 

"Oh,  yes!  I  wouldn't  change  fathers,"  returned 
the  other — "  not  though  Colonel  Pell  is  so  famous  and 
gives  Priscy  ever  so  much  money  to  spend,  and  mine 
can't  even  support  me  at  present.  But  then,  he  loves 
Harold  and  me,  Dorothy ;  and  he  always  has." 

"How  could  he  help  it?"  retorted  her  friend  put- 
ting her  arm  about  Lulu  and  giving  her  an  affectionate 
squeeze  as  the  two  sat  together  on  a  bench  on  the 
side  veranda  of  the  hotel.  "There  was  nobody 
about — I  looked,"  she  added,  laughing. 

"Priscy  was  surprised  to  find  him  at  that  man's, 
of  course,"  said  Lulu  returning  to  the  subject  that 
interested  them  both.  "  But  I  could  see  that  she  was 
very  much  pleased  at  the  part  he  had  played  in  sav- 
ing Nemo.  Her  face  flushed  all  over;  you  didn't  see 


WHAT   DOROTHY   DARED  101 

it,  you  were  so  busy  with  Nemo  just  then.  I  think 
she  wanted  to  thank  him;  but  she  wouldn't.  She 
listened  to  every  word  you  said  to  him.  And  she 
heard  his  answer,  too,  when  he  thanked  you." 

"But,"  answered  Dorothy,  "I  saw  through  every- 
thing else  going  on  that  she  would  scarcely  take  his 
hand  when  he  held  it  out  to  her,  and  that  when  she 
said : '  How  do  you  do  ? '  in  answer  to  his  cordial  greet- 
ing, she  would  not  add :  '  father/  and  she  didn't  like 
to  say:  'Colonel  Pell';  so,  she  said  nothing." 

"  But  she  carried  it  off  well ;  she's  the  pluckiest  little 
thing ! "  declared  Lulu. 

"  Now  and  then  one  doesn't  need  pluck,"  retorted 
Dorothy.  "  Something  else  would  do  better." 

"  A  little  of  your  graciousness ! "  laughed  Lulu. 
Yet  she  spoke  in  earnest.  "You're  right,  Dorothy," 
she  said  the  next  moment.  "  But  what  are  you  going 
to  do  about  it?" 

"  I — don't — know,"  returned  the  girl.  "  I  wish " 

"  Miss  Bromley,"  called  Rex  from  the  steps,  "  do 
come  and  play  tennis.  Come  on,  Doro;  you  needn't 
hug  Nemo  so  very  close.  He's  learned  his  lesson ;  he 
won't  go  off  again — for  one  day,  at  least.  Now, 
come." 

"  Not  quite  yet,  thank  you,  Rex.  I  want  to  think 
about  something  a  little  first — something  I  ought  to 
do." 

"Oh,  do  you?  A  story,  or  a  drama?  Well,  be 
sure  you  make  it  good.  You'll  come,  Miss  Bromley  ?  " 
he  repeated. 

"I'd    like   to  play,"   said  the  girl   rising.     "You 


102        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

don't  mind,  Dorothy?"  she  added.     "I'll  stay  if  you 

do." 

"  Oh,  no,  no,"  cried  Dorothy.     "  Go,  by  all  means." 

"  She  wants  to  be  by  herself.  Genius  burns,"  whis- 
pered Rex  smiling  at  his  companion  as  the  two  walked 
off. 

Dorothy  did  want  to  be  left  alone;  she  did  have 
something  to  study  upon.  But  it  was  not  story,  or 
drama ;  it  was  something  in  real  life — very  real  to  her. 
She  thought  as  she  sat  there  puzzling  over  it,  that 
things  in  real  life  were  much  more  difficult  to  settle 
than  in  stories ;  one  could  manage  characters,  to  a  cer- 
tain extent ;  but  as  to  people,  one  couldn't  often  man- 
age them. 

Some  one  came  out  of  the  front  door  of  the  hotel 
and  walking  along  the  veranda,  turned  the  corner  to 
the  smaller  one  more  shady  and  quiet.  Indeed,  at 
the  moment  only  one  person  was  there — a  girl  seated 
on  one  of  the  benches,  her  arm  about  the  neck  of  the 
great  dog  who  sat  at  her  knee,  his  head  in  her  lap, 
his  eyes  upon  her  face,  as  if  in  the  sight  of  that  were 
all  the  delight  he  desired.  But,  evidently,  Dorothy 
was  not  thinking  about  him  at  the  moment;  her  head 
was  bent,  her  eyes  looking  into  space  in  which  she 
saw  the  vision  of  whatever  occupied  her  thoughts. 

The  newcomer  stood  watching  her  with  a  pleasure 
that  lighted  his  face.  "  What  a  beautiful  girl !  What 
a  good  girl ! "  he  said  to  himself.  The  words  of  the 
old  song  came  into  his  mind:  *  Tender  and  true' — 
yes,  Dorothy.  Brooke  was  in  character  *  tender  and 
true  ' ;  he  knew  much  more  about  her  than  she  dreamed 


WHAT    DOROTHY   DARED  103 

of.  The  blind  professor,  one  of  the  principals  of  Hos- 
mer  Hall  where  she  had  been  a  pupil  for  the  past  year, 
had  sketched  her  character  in  few  words  through  her 
school  year's  work,  and  in  this  sketch  the  listener  had 
perceived  his  own  debt  to  her. 

After  watching  her  a  moment  that  afternoon  he 
went  nearer  and  spoke  to  her,  a  reverence  in  his  heart 
underlying  the  lightness  of  his  tone.  "And  so,  you 
have  him  fast,  Miss  Brooke,"  he  said,  nodding  toward 
the  dog ;  "  and  he  doesn't  seem  to  want  to  get  away ; 
he  won't  do  it  again,  I  feel  sure." 

Dorothy  looked  up  with  a  start.  It  is  always  sur- 
prising to  be  suddenly  addressed  by  the  person  in  one's 
thoughts  at  the  moment.  "  Oh,  Colonel  Pell ! "  she 
cried  coloring  with  eagerness  and  embarrassment  in  the 
purpose  on  which  she  was  set.  "  I'm  glad  to  see  you ; 
I — I  wanted  to  thank  you  again  for  what  you  did 
for  me — for  us  all — to-day.  You  cannot  realize  what 
it  is  to  us." 

"  I  think  I  can,"  he  said  smiling  down  at  her  as  he 
stood  beside  her.  "You  see,  I've  had  pet  dogs  my- 
self." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  see,"  answered  Dorothy.  But  it  was 
so  evident  that  she  had  not  finished  that  he  still  stood 
watching  her  in  silence,  waiting.  "  I — want  to  thank 
you,"  she  said  again ;  "  and  I — want  to  say  something 
else  to  you.  But  I'm  afraid  I  can't  talk  to  you  stand 
ing  there.  I  have  to  look  up  to  you  anyway,  you  see ; 
and  that  makes  it  too  much.  Would  you  mind  sitting 
down  a  moment?" 

"  I  certainly  don't  see  how  you  can  look  up  to  me — 


104       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

you ! "  he  answered  gravely.  "  But  I  should  mind 
sitting  down  beside  you  very  much;  it  would  give 
me  great  pleasure.  Take  your  time  about  whatever 
you  have  to  say,"  he  added.  "  There  is  not  the  least 
haste." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  girl,  and  she  looked  at  him 
without  speaking  further ;  her  glance  spoke  the  delicacy 
that  shrank  from  taking  what  might  seem  a  forward 
part  in  a  matter  that  belonged  to  his  own  deep  ex- 
perience. 

"It's  about  my  daughter?  It's  about  Priscilla?" 
he  questioned  at  last. 

"  Oh,  yes,  Colonel  Pell ! "  cried  Dorothy,  her  face 
flushing  from  brow  to  chin.  "It  is  about  Priscy. 
You  know,  you've  seen  so  little  of  her  of  late.  I  want 
you  to  understand  her ;  she  is  very  reserved  as  to  show- 
ing affection,  unless  she  is  very  well  acquainted  in- 
deed. She  talks  and  laughs  and  is  so  full  of  bright- 
ness and  wit."  And  Dorothy  gave  him  in  some  de- 
tail incidents  of  Pell-Mell's  keenness  of  apprehension 
and  quickness  of  retort. 

"Like  her  Aunt  Priscilla,"  he  said.     "I  see  that." 

"And  she  was  so  good  to  me  when  I  was  ill  in 
school — not  even  the  doctor  did  as  much  for  me  as 
she  did;  he  said  so.  And  she  petted  me,"  Dorothy 
went  on.  "  But  she  is  like  all  the  people  we  love 
best ;  when  she  really  cares,  it's  very  hard  for  her  to 
say  so." 

"  It's  not  difficult,  however,  for  her  to  make  it  plain 
when  she  does  not  care,"  he  retorted  with  bitterness. 

A  look  of  distress  came  into  Dorothy's  face.  Twice 


WHAT   DOROTHY   DARED  105 

she  tried  to  answer  him — and  stopped.  "  Oh,  Colonel 
Pell,"  she  cried  at  last,  lifting  tear-dimmed  eyes  to 
his  face,  "don't  speak  so,  I  beg  of  you!  Don't  speak 
so  of  your  own  dear  daughter!  She  has  a  heart  as 
true  as  steel;  and  so  loving  and  beautiful." 

The  man  sat  looking  at  her  a  moment  in  silence. 
In  his  second  marriage,  although  he  liked  his  wife  well 
enough,  he  told  himself,  both  had  thought  more  of 
ambition  than  of  sentiment.  He  had  admired  her 
stately  presence,  her  high  family  which  more  than 
matched  his  own;  she  had  appreciated  the  satisfaction 
of  being  the  wife  of  so  famous  a  man  of  science. 
She  was  still  quite  satisfied,  except  that  access  of  fame 
of  any  kind  was  always  to  be  desired.  But  for  him- 
self, he  had  come  to  realize  that  a  charming  daughter 
who  would  love  him  would  certainly  add  much  to  life. 
An  intuition  of  how  beautiful  Dorothy's  own  home 
life  must  be  came  to  him  as  he  watched  her.  It 
was  to  this  girl's  heart — "tender  and  true,"  he  said 
to  himself  again,  that  his  own  daughter's  had  re- 
sponded. Was  it  any  wonder? 

"  Her  heart  may  be  beautiful ;  but  she  has  no  place 
in  it  for  her  father,"  he  answered  at  last  with  a  grave 
sadness  that  revealed  more  of  himself  to  his  listener 
than  he  imagined. 

She  turned  upon  him  with  a  kindling  light  in  her 
face.  "  You  decide  too  soon,  Colonel  Pell ! "  she  cried 
with  the  authority  of  truth  in  her  tones.  Her  voice, 
her  movements  were  vibrating  with  eagerness.  He 
did  care !  It  should  come  right.  "  What  science  do 
you  study  in  which  results  come  before  the  labor?" 


106       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

she  questioned  hotly.  "  And  what  science  do  you  find 
worthy  of  more  trouble  to  win  than  your  daughter's 
heart?" 

"None,  Miss  Brooke,"  he  answered  her. 

She  believed  his  look  and  tone.  "And,  Colonel 
Pell,  you  are  a  soldier,"  she  urged.  "  What  would 
you  think  of  a  general  who  marched  away  from  a 
city  that  he  ought  to  enter  and  never  laid  siege  to  it, 
never  even  fired  a  shot?  Oh,  I  hope  you'll  forgive 
me ! "  she  cried  suddenly,  overcome  by  the  sense  of  her 
boldness.  His  look  assured  her.  "  I  had  to  speak, 
for  Priscy's  sake — and  for  yours,  too,"  she  added. 
The  next  moment  she  flashed  a  sudden  glance  at  him. 
"  Don't  be  too  sure  she  doesn't  care ! "  she  cried. 

Then,  her  task  over,  she  sat  trembling.  For  this 
tall,  stern  man  was  not  one  to  be  lightly  counselled. 

His  face  flushed  at  her  last  words,  and  his  eyes 
lighted.  For  a  little  time  he  was  silent.  Then  he 
said:  "A  siege  sometimes  takes  long  to  win.  All 
I  can  ask  is  to  be  as  brave  a  soldier  as  you  are,  Miss 
Brooke.  Words  cannot  thank  you.  Be  sure  I  shall 
remember."  He  took  her  hand,  bent  and  touched  it 
reverently  with  his  lips. 

The  next  instant  he  had  gone — with  a  bow  for 
several  of  Dorothy's  companions  who  came  talking 
and  laughing  up  the  path  toward  him.  Priscy  was 
among  them.  Her  young  face  grew  stern  at  the 
sight  of  him. 

"  How  much  you  are  like  your  Aunt  Priscilla,"  he 
said  to  her  lightly  as  he  passed  her  with  a  smile,  not 
waiting  for  glance  or  word  from  her  in  reply. 


XI 

A    RAINY    DAY 

JIMMY  REID  stood  at  the  window  looking  out.  It 
poured  in  torrents — it  seemed  as  if  the  skies  had 
opened.  An  excursion  of  any  kind  that  day  was  out 
of  the  question;  whatever  amusement  was  to  be  had 
must  be  found  indoors.  This  gave  Jimmy  all  the 
more  time  to  study  upon  a  matter  which  the  others  had 
not  seemed  to  consider,  but  which,  the  more  he  thought 
about  it,  the  more  it  came  to  him  as  something  that 
needed  to  be  settled. 

How  did  Nemo  get  to  the  vivisectionist's?  Mr. 
Splinter  had  shown  his  receipt  proving  that  he  had 
bought  and  paid  for  the  dog;  and  since  Nemo  was 
still  uninjured,  Rex  had  reimbursed  Splinter.  No- 
body knew  who  "  William  Rolf e  " — the  signer  of  the 
receipt — was.  He  was,  evidently,  a  man  who  had 
picked  up  Nemo  somewhere  and  made  use  of  him  to 
get  money  out  of.  Nobody  thought  any  more  about 
him,  except  Jimmy  who  was  not  satisfied  to  let  things 
go;  he  had  his  suspicions.  But  as  yet  he  had  not 
voiced  them ;  he  had  no  right  to  do  it  without  at  least 
some  scrap  of  proof.  As  he  stood  there  at  the  office 
window,  some  one  came  in  muffled  in  a  raincoat,  and 
a  voice  said  to  him :  "  Do  you  happen  to  know  where 
Mr.  Longley  is  ?  " 

107 


io8       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"  Over  there  reading  his  letters,"  returned  Jimmy 
briefly,  going  back  to  his  occupation. 

"What  is  it,  Manson?"  asked  Ned  looking  up. 

"  I  was  sure  you  wouldn't  want  the  auto  to-day," 
said  Manson  approaching.  "So,  I  thought  'twould 

be  a  good  time  to  go  to  A to  get  something  she 

needs ;  she  doesn't  run  quite  right.  She'll  go  slow ;  but 
if  you  ever  wanted  to  get  a  spurt  on  her,  you  couldn't 
do  it  noways  as  she  is  now.  I  thought  we'd  better 
have  it  fixed  so  if  'twas  needed,  we  could  do  it  all 
right." 

"What  it  is  you  need?"  asked  Ned. 

Manson  explained  at  some  length  that  it  was  a  dif- 
ferent lever.  "  And  I'd  like  to  do  some  errands  my- 
self," he  added,  seeing  Ned  hesitate.  "And  if  any 
of  the  ladies  or  gentlemen  wanted  to  get  anything, 
I'd  be  happy  to  oblige  them;  I'm  a  good  shopper,"  he 
smiled. 

"Thank  you,"  returned  Ned.  "But  I  don't  think 
there's  anything  this  morning.  I  know  the  ladies 
would  prefer  to  do  their  own  shopping;  and  I  think 

we  all  should,  too.  And  we  shall  be  going  to  A 

ourselves  soon ;  so,  we  won't  trouble  you.  But  if  you 
like,  you  may  go  and  do  your  own  errands ;  we  shall 
not  want  the  car  to-day — unless  it  should  clear;  and 
I  suppose  you  will  be  back  in  good  season  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir,  yes,  to  be  sure.  Shall  I  get  the  dog's 
collar  marked  to-day?  It  might  be  safer,  you  know," 
he  added,  as  Ned  hesitated.  "  If  he  went  off  again, 
you  see?  " 

"I  will  ask  his  master,"  said  Ned — "or  his  mis- 


A   RAINY   DAY  109 

tress."  It  was  Dorothy  whom  he  found  first.  Yes; 
she  would  be  glad  to  have  it  done  immediately. 

"And  shall  I  get  the  lever? "  pursued  the  chauffeur, 
receiving  the  collar  with  a  covert  smile. 

"  Ye — es,  you  might,"  said  Ned.  "  And  pay  for  it, 
and  bring  the  receipt  to  me;  I'll  make  it  right  with 
you." 

"Of  course,  sir,  I  wouldn't  leave  that,"  returned 
the  chauffeur  with  an  air  of  grievance.  And  he  went 
out  again. 

Almost  the  next  moment  they  saw  him  starting 
down  the  hill. 

"  He  took  your  consent  for  granted,  Ned,"  said 
Jimmy.  "  He  was  all  ready." 

"Well,  why  not?"  asked  the  other.  "We  can't 
use  him  to-day.  What  good  would  he  do  hanging 
round?" 

"None  at  all — I'm  sure!"  muttered  Jimmy  under 
his  breath. 

"What's  that?"  cried  Ned. 

"Oh,  nothing,"  returned  his  friend,  catching  the 
clerk's  eye  upon  him.  "  I  was  only  talking  to  myself 
in  the  interesting  way  I  have  sometimes;  the  remark 
was  meant  for  nobody's  ears  but  mine." 

"  You  know  you  never  do  that,"  laughed  the  other. 
But  he  did  not  press  his  question. 

The  party  that  morning  broke  up  into  groups ;  and 
each  group  amused  itself  in  its  own  way.  Grace  and 
Miss  Knowles,  and,  for  a  while,  Dorothy  were  in 
Mrs.  Longley's  room.  She  was  doing  finely,  and  se- 
cretly welcomed  the  rain,  which  gave  her  the  society 


i  io   DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

of  all  her  party  at  different  times  without  making  her 
feel  the  self-reproach  of  keeping  them  from  out-of- 
door  enjoyments.  Soon  after  breakfast  Rex  carried 
off  Lulu  and  Priscy  and  Jimmy  to  the  bowling  alley. 
In  an  hour  Ned  came  into  his  mother's  room,  and 
after  a  while  suggested  to  Dorothy  that  this  would  be 
an  excellent  time  to  do  a  little  collaborating. 

"  Rex  said,  you  remember,"  he  added,  "  that  we 
ought  to  be  able  to  entertain  the  company." 

"  But  I  want  to  see  your  mother,"  pleaded  the  girl. 

"  Oh,  go,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Longley.  "  As  Ned 
says,  it  is  a  '  first-class  '  opportunity  to  work — Ned,  I 
do  wish  you'd  leave  off  slang,"  she  added,  smiling 
up  at  him  as  he  stood  beside  her. 

"  Oh,  if  I  left  it  all  off,  mamma,"  he  retorted,  "  the 
professors  might  let  me  into  college  on  the  exams; 
but  the  fellows  never  would  stand  me." 

His  mother  joined  in  the  laugh.  Then  she  asked : 
"Where  is  Rose?" 

"  In  her  room  working  over  something ;  I  don't 
know  what,"  said  Dorothy.  "  She  wouldn't  open  the 
door  more  than,  a  crack ;  she  said  she  was  very  busy. 
But  she  seemed  happy  about  it,  so  I  let  her  alone." 

And  the  two  "dramatists,"  as  Rex  dubbed  them, 
walked  off  and  found  a  quiet  corner  somewhere, 
where  they  worked  very  industriously  for  quite  a 
while.  Ned  wanted  to  rest  from  their  labors  and 
talk  long  before  he  ventured ;  but  he  knew  that  Doro- 
thy believed  in  carrying  out  the  purpose  which  had 
been  announced. 

As  he  looked  at  her  that  morning,  he  said  to  him- 


A   RAINY   DAY  in 

self  that  Dorothy  had  beauty;  but  so  had  other  girls; 
that  was  not  all;  indeed,  it  was  only  a  small  part  of 
her  charm.  It  was  not  what  Dorothy  Brooke  had, 
but  what  she  was,  that  he  delighted  in. 

He  said  nothing  of  the  kind  to  her,  however,  but 
told  her  instead  that  they,  really,  ought  to  do  consider- 
able work  together;  because  all  the  others  wanted 
them  to  have  something  on  hand  for  entertainment,  if 
there  should  come  another  rainy  day  while  his  mother 
was  tied  up  with  her  ankle.  And  then,  it  was  a  fine 
chance  to  practice  on  an  audience.  But  first  there  was 
a  good  deal  to  be  planned  and  written.  "And,  you 
know,  we've  not  done  anything  yet,  the  weather  has 
been  so  beautiful,"  he  finished. 

"You're  not  sorry  for  the  beautiful  weather?"  she 
asked,  smiling  and  so  sure  he  would  say  "  no  "  that 
he  could  not  help  saying  it.  And  in  a  sense,  he 
meant  it.  It  was  only  when  he  and  Dorothy  were 
intent  on  their  plot  that  he  enjoyed  himself  so  much 
he  was  ready  to  think  gray  skies  better  than  blue  ones. 

Rex  had  opportunity  that  morning  for  a  long  talk 
with  Lulu  Bromley.  He  found  more  and  more  things 
in  her  to  admire ;  she  was  the  best  of  company,  as  he 
had  told  himself  many  times  before.  But  a  girl  like 
Lulu  would  be  sure  to  be  a  favorite  anywhere.  Lulu 
laughed  and  joked  with  him  as  gayly  as  he  wished. 
But  whether  she  were  really  interested  in  him,  as  he 
hoped,  he  could  not  in  the  least  discover. 

But  for  all  that,  both  found  things  very  pleasant. 
They  had  a  discussion  as  to  the  possibility  of  Priscy 
and  her  father  becoming  reconciled.  Rex  was  opti- 


ii2        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

mistic;  but  Lulu,  who  knew  her  better,  thought  it 
was  doubtful. 

When  they  had  arrived  at  this  point,  they  came 
upon  Dorothy  and  Ned  ensconced  in  a  corner  of  the 
veranda  which  they  still  had  all  to  themselves. 

"  Plot  laid  out  ?  "  demanded  Rex. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  responded  Ned.  "We're  hard  at 
work  upon  the  characters." 

"  You  should  say  *  dramatis  personse,' "  corrected 
Lulu. 

"  On  the  '  dramatis  persona?/  then.  We've  got  Rex 
to  a  '  T ' ;  and  we  are  struggling  to  embalm  in  amber 
Miss  Bromley's  most  captivating  mannerisms ! " 

"  What  a  saucy  boy ! "  laughed  Lulu.  "  It  shall  be 
the  struggle  of  my  life  to  pay  you  back." 

"Dorothy  was  all  ready  to  do  Miss  Knowles  up 
brown,"  pursued  Ned.  "  But  since  yesterday,  when 
we  came  home  and  she  rushed  upon  her  with  open 
arms  and  sobbed  out  she  was  'so-o  g-lad — the  po-or 
creature — was  n-ot  viv-i-sected ! '  Dorothy  has  wilted ; 
she  can't  see  anything  in  her  to  mimic!  Too  bad!" 

"  I  say,  it  is  too  bad ! "  echoed  Rex.  "  I  must  say 
she's  a  fine  subject." 

Then  Jimmy  sauntered  up,  and  Rose  Hewes  came 
quietly  down  the  stairs  and  out  of  doors ;  finally,  Miss 
Knowles  herself  appeared;  and  the  topic  of  conversa- 
tion was  changed. 

"You  can't  go  to-day!"  cried  Manson,  a  dark 
scowl  gathering  on  his  face  as,  springing  from  the 
motor  car,  he  ran  up  the  steps  of  a  handsome  house 


A   RAINY   DAY  113 

in  the  suburbs  of  A to  greet  a  girl  who  had  just 

opened  the  door  to  him.  "  And  why  can't  you — 
when  this  is  the  day  that  suits  me  best  of  all,  and 
gives  us  all  the  extra  time  to  get  off  without  dis- 
covery? Why  not,  I'd  like  to  know?  We  shall  be 
miles  and  miles  from  here  before  they  wake  up  to 
look  for  their  machine;  I've  got  the  start  on  them; 
an'  I  mean  to  keep  it.  Say  you're  going  to  take  a 
little  spin  with  me,  and  come  along." 

"  Have  you  got  the  license  ?  "  asked  Delia  Watson. 
"You  know  you  can't  be  married  without  a  license." 

"  I  know  that,  goosie,"  he  answered,  giving  her  a 
chuck  under  the  chin.  "I'm  goin'  to  get  that  all 
right.  I'll  go  for  it  now,  an'  come  back  for  you. 
By  that  time  you'll  have  all  your  best  things  put  up 
to  bring  along." 

"You  think  it's  easy  to  git  off,  George.  But  it 
ain't.  She  watches  me  all  the  time  to  see  if  I  take 
good  care  of  the  baby." 

"The  brat!" 

"  Oh,  she's  a  dear  little  thing,  an'  I  wouldn't  have 
any  harm  come  to  her.  But  I  can't  git  off  without 
her  now — an'  I  don't  want  to  take  her  with  me,"  she 
laughed.  "  Mrs.  Ridgeway's  writing  letters  and  pack- 
ing, an'  I  expect  every  minute  she'll  send  down  for 
me  to  look  after  baby.  I  just  ran  down  because  I 
saw  the  auto  and  knew  'twas  you." 

"  Then  you  don't  mean  to  come  with  me  at  all  ? " 
asked  the  chauffeur  sulkily.  "I  won't  make  a  fool  of 
myself  getting  a  marriage  license  if  we're  not  goin'  to 
be  married! " 


ii4       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"  Oh,  we  are ! "  cried  Delia  eagerly.  "  But,  say, 
George,  just  listen  to  me.  We  can  do  it  to-morrow. 
She's " 

"  You  mean,  you  can  do  it  to-morrow.  But  how 
about  me  ?  It'll  be  mighty  risky  gettin'  down  here  to- 
morrow again.  I'd  have  to  scoot  for  it,  and  I  mightn't 
git  off  anyway.  No,  you'll  have  to  do  it  to- 
day." 

Delia  thought  a  moment.  Then  she  said :  "  She's 
goin'  away  to-morrow  by  train,  to  see  somebody;  I 
b'lieve  it's  her  husband's  mother  who's  very  sick,  or 
she  wouldn't  leave  the  baby — an'  she's  goin'  to  leave 
me  in  charge  of  her.  So,  then  I  can  git  off ;  she  won't 
be  here  to  watch  me.  She  goes  off  in  an  early  train. 
You  go  an'  git  the  license  now;  and  come  for  me  to- 
morrow mornin'.  I'll  be  good  an'  ready  then.  An' 
I'll  have  time  to  git  my  things  together." 

"  You  can  do  it  now  just  as  well ;  an*  we'll  get  the 
license  as  we  go — I'm  not  goin'  to  slip  you  up  on 
that,  Delia.  But  I  tell  you,  I  don't  know  how  things'll 
be  to-morrow.  Some  of  them  fellers  are  round  blaz- 
ing early  in  the  morning,  poking  their  noses  into 
everything.  So,  if  you  won't  do  it  to-day,  it  may  slip 
up  to-morrow.  I  don't  want  it  to,  you  know;  but  I 
have  to  be  careful." 

Again  the  girl  stood  a  moment  in  thought.  "  If  I 
run  off  to-day,"  she  said  at  last,  "I  shall  lose  my 
month's  wages,  George.  To-morrow  morning  is  the 
time  for  paying  me." 

"Whew!    That's  something  to  think  of,"  he  said. 

"  You  know  father  don't  want  me  to  marry  you," 


A   RAINY    DAY  115 

she  added :  "  an'  he  won't  help  us  out ;  an'  my  money 
will  help." 

"  Should  say  it  would !  Then,  when  we've  got  off 
far  enough,  I'll  sell  the  auto;  that'll  do  something 
handsome  for  us,  it's  a  dandy  machine.  And,  Delia, 
they  don't  suspect  one  thing  about  my  sellin'  the  dog 
to  that  vivisection  man.  I  heard  'em  talking  it  over. 
Now  they've  got  him  back — the  fool  was  so  silly  he 
didn't  go  to  work  fast  enough,  so  he  lost  him — now 
they've  got  him  back,  as  I  was  sayin',  they'll  never 
take  the  trouble  to  find  out  who  did  it.  An',  any- 
way, if  things  go  well  to-morrow,  I  shan't  care." 

"  No,  indeed ! "  smiled  Delia,  looking  complacently 
at  the  other's  crafty  face.  "You're  real  smart, 
George." 

George  beamed  upon  her.  "  But  she  won't  forget 
the  pay  to-morrow  in  her  rush  ?  "  he  asked  a  few  min- 
utes later,  looking  very  anxious. 

"  She  never  does — no  matter  what  happens ;  it's 
always  ready  for  me  when  I  come  in  to  take  baby  in 
the  mornin';  she  never  lets  her  sleep  anywhere  but 
in  her  little  bed  right  beside  her.  Oh,  don't  worry 
about  her  forgettin';  keep  your  worry  for  somethin' 
that  needs  it.  But  I  guess  nothin'  will;  you're  so 
smart,"  she  repeated ;  "  you  fix  things  up  well ;  they 
won't  slump.  Won't  father  be  mad?" 

They  both  laughed. 

"Delia!  Delia!  where  are  you?  I  want  you  this 
moment,"  called  a  voice  from  the  floor  above. 

"  There  she  is  now !  I've  got  to  go ! "  cried  the 
girl.  "  She's  left  me  alone  longer  'n  I  thought  she 


ii6       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

would.  Yes,  m'm,  I'm  comin'  this  minute,"  she  called 
back.  "Good-by,  George.  Get  the  license  an'  come 
back  for  me  early  to-morrow." 

"  I'll  get  the  license  all  right.  An'  I'll  come  back, 
you  may  be  sure,  if  I  can  get  here!"  he  retorted. 

"  Come !    Come,  Delia !  "  called  the  voice  again. 

"  Yes,  m'm,  this  minute !  "  And  the  girl  shut  the 
front  door,  for  she  had  been  standing  with  Manson  in 
the  vestibule,  and  ran  upstairs  with  a  false  excuse  on 
her  lips  as  she  met  her  mistress  about  to  come  down 
to  learn  what  was  keeping  the  maid. 

The  chauffeur  sprang  into  the  car  and  drove  off 
smiling.  For  he  was  more  confident  of  eluding  his 
employers  than  he  had  confessed. 


XII 

WHERE    WAS   THE    MOTOR    CAR? 

THE  next  morning  was  radiant — the  sky  cloudless, 
the  earth,  with  dust  freshly  washed  from  every  leaf 
and  twig  and  glistening  with  dew,  a  vision  of  beauty. 
Dorothy,  passing  out  to  the  upper  veranda  upon  which 
her  door  opened,  stood  looking  down  a  vista  between 
the  mountains  into  a  valley  rich  with  fruit  and  grain 
and  beautiful  with  sweep  of  green  fields  shaded  with 
oak  and  maple  and  the  graceful  elm.  The  morning 
mist  rising  between  the  hills  and  lying  in  the  valley 
softened  the  landscape  with  a  translucent  glow  as  the 
sun's  rays  shot  down  upon  it. 

Dorothy,  taking  deep  breaths  of  the  exhilarating 
air,  forgot  everything  in  her  delight  at  living  and 
gazing  on  such  a  morning,  when  a  hand  was  laid  upon 
hers,  a  head  rested  a  moment  on  her  shoulder,  and 
a  troubled  voice  said : 

"Good-morning,  Dorothy,  dear.  I  just  had  to 
come  to  speak  to  you  a  minute." 

"A  good  many  minutes,  I  hope,"  returned  Doro- 
thy, kissing  her.  "  But  what's  the  matter,  Pell- 
Mell?" 

"  Only  the  same  old  thing.  I  do  wish  they'd  go 
away.  It  makes  it  so  hard  for  me  to  be  always  meet- 
ing them;  and  sometimes  I  think  my  father  tries  to 
do  it." 

"7 


ii8       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"I  don't  blame  him  at  all,"  returned  the  other. 
"  If  I  had  a  daughter  as  lovely  as  Pell-Mell,  I  should 
be  trying  to  meet  her  all  the  time." 

Priscy  gave  her  a  startled  glance.  "  But  he  only 
does  it  to  tease  me,"  she  answered.  "He  wants  to 
make  me  show  that  I  care  for  the  way  he  has  treated 
me;  he  would  enjoy  that." 

"I'm  sure  that  is  not  the  reason,  Pell-Mell.  I'm 
sure  he  is  really  sorry  for  it  himself.  How  can  he 
help  being  sorry?  " 

"  He  doesn't  say  so.  He  only  tries  to  be  pleasant 
and  patronizing,  not  to  have  other  people  know,  and 
to  seem  all  right  with — Mrs.  Pell." 

"  Priscy,  I'm  sure  you  are  wrong ! "  cried  Dorothy, 
trembling  between  the  sense  of  honor  which  forbade 
her  to  speak  of  what  had  passed  between  Colonel  Pell 
and  herself  and  her  eager  desire  to  have  Priscy  feel 
kindly  toward  her  father.  "  I'm  sure  you  are 
wrong—  "  she  began  again,  when  the  opening  of  a 
door  at  the  end  of  the  veranda  caught  her  ear,  and 
in  another  moment  Mrs.  Pell,  in  an  irreproachable 
toilet,  had  stepped  from  her  room  and  was  approach- 
ing them  with  smiling  haste. 

"  I'm  glad  to  find  you  here,"  she  said  to  Priscy 
after  a  cordial  greeting  to  Dorothy  and  a  few  words 
to  both  on  the  weather  and  other  general  subjects. 
"  Won't  you  let  us  borrow  your  guest  for  to-day,  Miss 
Brooke?"  and  she  turned  again  to  the  latter.  "We 
are  going  for  an  all-day  run  and  I  want  my  step- 
daughter very  much  to  go  with  us." 

The  second  Mrs.  Pell  was,  certainly,  a  woman  of 


WHERE    WAS    THE    MOTOR    CAR?     119 

great  elegance  of  manner  and  carriage;  she  was  a 
little  haughty,  and  it  became  her;  her  graciousness  to 
Priscy  showed  all  the  more  in  contrast. 

"  I  shall  be "  began  Dorothy.  She  was  about 

to  consent  with  secret  joy  and  politely  spoken  regrets 
at  losing  Pell-Mell  for  the  day,  but  Priscy  inter- 
rupted her. 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Pell,"  she  answered.  "  But  we 
arranged  last  evening  for  a  run  to-day  if  the  weather 
was  good,  and  it  will  be  better  to  do  as  we  have 
planned." 

Mrs.  Pell  eyed  her  keenly,  superciliously.  "You 
would  prefer  to  go  with  Miss  Brooke?"  she  asked. 
As  Dorothy  said  afterward,  her  tone  was  icy  enough 
to  make  one  shiver. 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Pell,  I  should,"  answered  Priscy  with 
a  haughtiness  equal  to  her  own. 

The  lady  turned  without  another  word  and  swept 
back  to  her  own  room. 

As  the  two  girls  listened  to  the  shutting  of  her  door, 
Dorothy  began :  "  Oh,  Pell-Mell,  you  did  very  wrong. 
You  ought " 

But  Pell-Mell  was  sobbing  in  her  arms,  and  it  was 
impossible  to  scold  her  then. 

Directly  afterward  Grace  appeared. 

The  sobs  ceased,  the  tears  were  driven  back,  and  at 
the  breakfast  table  no  one  was  gayer  than  Priscy. 

Mrs.  Pell,  who  had  volunteered  to  "tackle  Pris- 
cilla,"  returning  to  her  husband,  announced  to  him 
that  his  daughter  was  an  ungrateful,  insolent  girl,  and 
that  she — Mrs.  Pell — would  wash  her  hands  of  her. 


120       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"The  only  criticism  on  that  remark,"  he  retorted, 
"  is  that  you  can't  wash  your  hands  of  what  never 
was  on  them ;  and  you  took  good  care  that  my  daugh- 
ter never  should  be." 

Mrs.  Pell  was  unusually  amiable  all  day.  It  had 
been  made  evident  to  her  before  that  time  that  her 
husband's  displeasure  had  a  very  cutting  edge. 

At  the  after-breakfast  discussion  of  the  Brooke 
party  as  to  route  and  time  of  starting,  the  latter  was 
postponed  until  toward  noon  in  the  hope  that  Mrs. 
Longley  would  be  able  to  take  a  short  run  and  be  the 
better  for  it.  This  delay  relieved  Rex  from  the  imme- 
diate necessity  of  telling  Ned  that  the  car  was  not  in 
the  garage  and  the  chauffeur  was  not  to  be  found. 
Probably  the  latter,  who  had  been  working  over  the 
car  the  previous  afternoon,  arranging  to  his  satisfac- 
tion the  lever  that  Ned  had  consented  to  buy  for  it, 
had  taken  a  short  run  early,  to  see  if  all  was  in  order 
for  the  day's  work ;  he  would,  no  doubt,  return  before 
the  others  learned  of  his  absence.  Rex  himself  went 
off  to  test  his  own  car  which  he  suspected  of  needing 
a  little  work  upon  it.  He  thought  that  on  his  return 
it  would  be  time  enough  to  tell  Longley,  in  case  Man- 
son  were  still  absent. 

But  when  he  came  back  Ned  and  Jimmy  had  gone 

off  on  their  motor  cycles  to  A ,  to  do  a  few 

errands  and  return  long  enough  before  luncheon  to 
take  Ned's  mother  out  for  a  short  turn— all  that  she 
could  bear  at  first.  Before  starting,  the  boys  had 
asked  if  anybody  had  any  commissions  for  them  in 
the  city.  Grace  wanted  Ned  to  buy  her  a  pair  of 


WHERE    WAS    THE    MOTOR    CAR?     121 

gloves ;  she  could  not  find  a  pair  that  she  thought  she 
had  brought  with  her.  She  gave  him  the  quality,  the 
number,  and  the  color. 

"  It  looks  all  very  simple,  Grace,"  teased  Jimmy. 
"But  who  knows  it  won't  turn  out  as  serious  as 
Beauty's  roses  in  'Beauty  and  the  Beast/  which,  you 
know,  almost  cost  her  father  his  life?" 

"  Ned's  not  my  father !  "  retorted  Grace,  laughing. 
"And  I'm  not  Beauty!  So,  your  comparison  won't 
hold." 

"  Part  of  it  will ! "  nodded  Jimmy  looking  at  her 
with  a  laugh. 

The  boys  went  off  in  fine  spirits.  Rex,  finding  them 
gone,  still  said  nothing  about  the  missing  chauffeur 
and  car;  these  would  be  sure  to  turn  up  all  right  be- 
fore they  were  needed;  he  knew  that  this  borrowing 
of  the  car  without  leave  was  a  way  which  some  chauf- 
feurs had.  Mrs.  Longley  was  not  well  enough  to  be 
made  anxious,  especially  if  there  was  no  need  of  it, 
and  he  could  not  trouble  Grace. 

As  more  and  more  time  went  by,  however,  he  was 
sorry  that  he  had  not  sponken  to  Longley,  for  neither 
machine  nor  man  appeared. 

That  morning  Manson  breakfasted  very  early,  say- 
ing that  he  had  work  to  do  on  the  machine,  and  then 
disappeared  into  the  garage.  But  he  came  out  again 
almost  at  once  and  glided  down  the  hill  so  smoothly 
in  the  fine  and  nearly  noiseless  car  that  none  of  the 
busy  servants  noticed  him  as  he  sped  past  the  hotel. 
Once  out  of  sight  of  it,  he  scorched  his  best. 


122       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

At  that  speed  it  was  not  long  before  he  drew  up 

at  a  garage  in  A ,  where  he  left  the  machine  while 

he  attended  to  a  little  necessary  business  in  the  city 
preparatory  to  his  next  move.  It  was  still  a  trifle 
before  the  time  appointed  for  him  to  appear  at  Mrs. 
Ridgeway's  house. 

"  Delia,"  that  lady  was  saying  to  her  maid,  "  this  is 
the  cloak  to  use  for  baby ;  she  won't  need  the  embroid- 
ered one  while  I'm  away,  unless  Professor  Griswold 
takes  her  out  driving.  If  he  does,  he'll  take  you  to 
look  after  her,  and  she  may  wear  her  best  things; 
my  brother  won't  notice,  but  I  shall  feel  it's  right. 
I  know  that  you  are  a  reliable  girl,"  the  mistress  went 
on ;  "  but  it's  a  great  responsibility  to  be  left  in  sole 
charge — Bab  is  so  delicate,  you  know.  I'm  always 
afraid  of  another  attack  of  croup  like  the  last  one 
when  she  was  so  very  ill.  Dear!  dear!"  sighed  the 
young  mamma.  "  But  when  my  husband's  mother  is 
not  expected  to  live,  and  he  has  sent  for  me,  I  must 
go.  It  may  be  a  week;  we  can't  tell.  But  you'll  be 
faithful,  Delia?" 

"Oh,  yes,  m'm,  yes,  indeed!"  returned  Delia  hid- 
ing a  smile  by  turning  away  to  bring  Mrs.  Ridgeway 
the  key  of  her  trunk. 

"You  see,  my  brother,  Professor  Griswold,  will 
stay  in  the  house  while  we  are  away.  To  be  sure,  he 
never  sees  anything;  he  wouldn't  know,  I  suppose, 
whether  you  put  a  wrap  on  Bab  or  not,  if  the  day  was 
cool.  But  then,  Delia,  you  mustn't  depend  on  his  not 
seeing  things;  for  these  absent-minded  people  some- 
times open  their  eyes  wide  when  nobody  expects  it. 


WHERE    WAS    THE    MOTOR    CAR?     123 

So,  I  shall  be  sure  to  know  exactly  what  you  do  with 
baby.  You'll  write  me  about  her  every  day;  you'll 
find  paper  and  stamps  here  on  my  desk.  Oh,  and  here 
are  your  wages.  I've  put  in  a  trifle  more  for  a 
gift  to  you;  I  feel  sure  you  will  be  so  good  to 
baby." 

"  Indeed,  I  wouldn't  hurt  her  for  the  world,  m'm," 
declared  Delia,  expressing  her  thanks.  "An*  all  I'm 
a-goin'  to  do  is  to  let  her  alone,"  she  added  to  her- 
self— "  that's  no  harm.  There'll  be  lots  after  a  good 
place  like  this."  Then  she  said  aloud  in  an  injured 
tone :  "  An'  if  I  hadn't  taken  good  care  of  her,  would 
I  be  here  now?" 

"  Of  course,  of  course,  you've  taken  excellent  care 
of  her,  Delia,"  answered  her  mistress  soothingly. 
"You  must  not  think  I  don't  know  you're  capable; 
or,  as  you  say,  you  would  not  be  here.  But  I  can't 
help  being  nervous.  You  know,  children  of  Bab's 
age  after  they've  learned  to  walk  and  are  still  so  little, 
are  into  everything  and  so  much  harder  to  take  care 
of  than  babies  in  arms;  they're  always  trying  to  run 
away,  and  falling  down  and  hurting  themselves  if 
they  are  not  faithfully  watched  all  the  time." 

"  I  know  that  well  enough,"  responded  the  girl 
dryly. 

"  That's  why  I'm  so  anxious,"  went  on  Mrs.  Ridge- 
way.  "But  I'm  sure  I've  said  enough  to  have  you 
very  careful.  And  you'll  not  leave  her  at  all,  will 
you?" 

At  that  moment  Bab  awakened  from  her  nap  and 
the  girl  was  spared  the  need  of  reply.  She  disap- 


I24       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

peared  into  the  next  room,  and  at  once  came  back 
with  the  little  one  crowing  upon  her  shoulder. 

Mrs.  Ridgeway  looked  at  the  child  through  a  mist 
of  tears.  "  If  only  mother  didn't  have  to  be  kept  so 
very  quiet,  I'd  take  you  both  with  me,"  she  said. 
"But  I'm  just  nervous  and  upset;  my  poor  husband 
is  so  fond  of  his  mother,  I  feel  for  him  so  much. 
After  all,  the  separation  from  baby  is  only  for  a 
few  days,  and  you're  very  fond  of  her  yourself, 
Delia?" 

"That  I  am,  m'm,"  returned  the  other. 

The  mother  took  her  little  one  in  her  arms  as  she 
gave  further  orders.  She  noticed  with  satisfaction 
Delia's  obligingness  and  her  more  than  usual  readi- 
ness and  cheerfulness;  the  girl  had  never  appeared  so 
capable,  she  thought  with  relief.  "  Mamma's  bless- 
ing ! "  she  whispered  to  her  baby.  "  I  know  she  will 
be  good  to  you."  The  cook  would  see  that  everybody 
had  plenty  to  eat;  and  the  second  girl  would  relieve 
Delia  from  every  duty  but  attendance  upon  the  child. 

The  professor  came  to  escort  his  sister  to  the  train, 
and  her  last  view  of  her  home  as  she  drove  away  was 
of  the  maid  standing  in  the  open  door  with  the  baby 
in  her  arms. 

"  I  didn't  think  she  ever  would  git  off ! "  commented 
Delia  as  she  ran  down  the  steps  and  looked  up  and 
down  the  quiet  street.  "  Now,  the  sooner  I  git  out 
of  this,  the  better.  Why  doesn't  George  come?  Oh, 
there  he  is!  Now  I've  got  to  hurry.  It's  no  matter 
how  long  he  keeps  me  waiting;  he's  always  in  a  rush 
when  he  gits  here." 


WHERE  WAS  THE  MOTOR  CAR?  125 

With  a  signal  to  Manson  that  she  would  soon  be 
back,  she  ran  into  the  house,  and  placing  Bab  on  the 
floor  in  Mrs.  Ridgeway's  room  which  the  second  girl 
was  putting  to  rights,  she  began :  "  Say,  Nell,  I'm 
a-goin'  autoin'  with  a  rale  smart  feller,  and  I  shall  be 
gone  all  the  mornin'.  Take  good  care  of  the  baby, 
and  when  I  come  back,  I'll  give  you  some  of  the  candy 
he'll  treat  me  to,  an*  a  new  necktie.  Say,  now,  you 
will,  won't  you?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  answered  Nell,  a  girl  as  good-natured 
as  she  was  forgetful.  "Just  leave  her  there  an*  I'll 
see  after  her;  she'll  be  all  right." 

"  And  I'll  give  you  the  things  just  as  soon  as  I  git 
back,"  repeated  Delia.  She  laughed  to  herself  all  the 
way  up  to  her  own  room. 

"When  I  git  back— ha!  ha!  ha!"  she  chuckled. 
"  Hope  Nell  won't  git  too  tired  waitin'.  Hope  she'll 
have  somethin'  afore  she  gits  it  out  of  me ! " 

Then  with  all  possible  haste  she  attired  herself  in 
her  best,  put  on  her  hat  as  the  easiest  way  of  carrying 
it,  threw  her  wrap  over  her  arm,  picked  up  her  dress- 
suit  case,  and  ran  down  again  to  Nell. 

"  My  eye !  But  you  do  look  fine ! "  commented  the 
other. 

"Mr.  Bennett  is  a-goin'  to  let  me  stop  an*  leave 
these  old  duds  at  my  father's,"  she  announced,  swing- 
ing the  case  as  she  entered  the  room.  There's  some 
candy  her  uncle  buys  for  her ;  Mrs.  Ridgeway  lets  her 
eat  it ;  it's  in  that  drawer.  'Twill  keep  her  quiet  if  she 
begins  to  fuss."  She  stooped  over  the  child  and  kissed 
her.  "  Good-by,  Bab ;  be  a  good  baby,"  she  said. 


126       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"  An'  good-by,  Nell ;  I'm  a-goin'  to  have  a  day  of  it, 
I  can  tell  you — autoin'  like  the  best!"  Then  she 
added  another  word,  and  ran  downstairs  with  a  laugh. 
She  was  still  laughing  as  she  sprang  into  the  car. 
"  I  told  'em  not  to  expect  me  till  evenin',"  she  said ; 
"to  look  out  for  me  then!" 

Manson  roared.  "  Good  for  you ! "  he  said. 
"Evening!  We'll  be  miles  enough  off  before  that 
time,"  he  added  slapping  his  hand  on  the  side  of  the 
car.  "  She's  a  dandy,  I  can  tell  you.  We  won't  poke 
the  way  the  old  lady  made  me  do!  We're  not  made 
that  way !  I've  fixed  her  up  to  scorch.  But  we'll  git 
married  first.  I've  found  a  little  fellow  that  don't 
ask  too  many  questions.  You  see,  the  thing  is  to  be 
off  in  a  hurry  before  they  set  out  after  us.  We'll  go 
to  the  minister's ;  then  we'll  drive  on  quietly — I  don't 
want  a  bob  after  me.  Then,  when  we  git  out  into 
the  country — we'll  let  out!  I  reckon  we  can. drive 
two  days  hard,  and  then  sell  the  auto." 

"  I  wish  we  could  keep  it,"  sighed  the  girl,  nestling 
into  the  cushions  with  a  sense  of  luxury. 

"What'll  we  have  to  live  on  while  I'm  looking  up 
a  job?"  he  said.  "Then,  anyway,  it's  not  safe.  They 
might  find  out  about  us  some  time." 

"We  won't  wait  any  longer  for  the  boys,"  said 
Grace.  "It's  time  for  mamma  to  start  if  she  is  to 
go  out  to-day  at  all.  Will  you  ask  your  brother, 
please,  Dorothy,  to  send  round  our  car?  And  tell 
Mr.  Manson  to  look  it  over  very  carefully,  to  make 
sure  that  everything  is  right." 


WHERE    WAS    THE    MOTOR    CAR?     127 

"  With  pleasure ! "  answered  Dorothy,  and  went 
upon  the  errand  directly. 

But  when  she  came  back,  she  made  an  excuse  to 
get  Grace  out  of  her  mother's  room.  She  looked  pale. 
"  Don't  be  anxious,  dear,"  she  began.  "  But  Rex  says 
that  the  chauffeur  and  the  car  have  been  gone  the 
whole  morning  and  have  not  come  home  yet.  He 
must  have  taken  a  long  spin.  It  will  be  all  right.  I 
only  wanted  to  explain  why  your  mother  will  have 
to  go  in  Rex's  car  instead  of  her  own.  That  will  be 
up  in  a  minute." 

But  Mrs.  Longley  was  afraid  to  attempt  Rex's  car, 
which  was  less  easy  to  enter  than  her  own. 

At  luncheon  conversation  dragged.  Everybody  was 
anxious — the  boys  not  yet  returned,  and  no  car,  no 
chauffeur,  although  they  all  believed  that  these  would 
soon  appear. 

Afterward  Rex  proposed  to  take  his  car  and  go  for 
a  spin.  He  invited  Lulu  and  Dorothy  and  Miss  Hewes 
to  accompany  him.  But  Rose  was  nowhere  to  be 
found;  she  had  had  an  early  breakfast;  she  had  not 
come  to  luncheon;  she  had  not  yet  appeared.  The 
waitress  had  seen  her  directly  after  her  breakfast  go- 
ing toward  the  woods  with  a  big  package  under  her 
arm. 

When  this  information  was  brought  to  Mrs.  Long- 
ley,  she  turned  pale.  A  dreadful  suspicion  flashed 
through  her  mind.  But  she  said  nothing.  She  would 
never  speak  of  it  unless  it  should  prove  true — then, 
every  one  would  have  to  know  it. 

Miss  Knowles  took  Rose's  place  in  the  car. 


128       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"  Let  us  go  to  meet  Longley  and  Reid,"  said  Rex. 
"  They  must  be  far  on  the  way  home  by  this  time ; 
for  they  ought  to  have  been  here  before  now.'* 

"It  certainly  must  be  Grace's  gloves  that  kept 
them,"  said  Lulu,  laughing. 


XIII 

A    TINY    WANDERER 

"  WHERE'S  Bab  ?  "  asked  Professor  Griswold,  com- 
ing into  the  house  after  seeing  his  sister  upon  the 
train.  "  I  have  five  minutes  for  her  before  I  go  to 
work.  Bring  her  to  me,  please." 

He  did  not  notice  that  Nell  was  not  the  usual  nurse 
as  she  came  into  the  library  with  the  baby  toddling 
beside  hen  He  caught  up  the  child  who  from  the 
moment  she  had  seen  him  had  been  dancing  and  shout- 
ing with  delight.  The  only  reason  why  Mrs.  Ridge- 
way  had  consented  to  leave  her  baby  at  all  had  been 
her  conviction  that  if  Bab  was  safe  anywhere,  it  was 
with  her  Uncle  John.  He  worshipped  even  her  tiny 
toes  that  as  he  swung  her  aloft  and  tossed  her  that 
morning  were  kicking  him  so  vigorously  as  she 
laughed  and  crowed  with  happiness. 

He  laughed,  too,  and  then  sighed  inaudibly.  He 
was  remembering  that  once  he  had  dreamed  of  wife 
and  child  of  his  own.  But  that  wife  must  be  the 
woman  he  loved;  and  she  had  parted  from  him  in 
anger  years  ago — ah,  well,  it  was  over.  He  no  longer 
dreamed  of  happiness ;  and,  awake,  he  was  glad  of  the 
privilege  of  his  sister's  home  in  which  he  was  always 
so  welcome ;  and  of  a  niece  who  was  the  very  prettiest 
baby  in  the  world — certainly,  the  brightest  and  dearest. 

129 


I3o        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"  Wait,  nurse,"  he  said ;  "  you  must  take  her  away  in 
a  minute ;  I  have  work  this  morning.  Just  one  game 
first  Hello,  Bab!  What's  in  my  pocket?  What  is 
it?  Oh,  you  little  witch!  Look  at  her,  nurse!" 
And  he  showed  Bab's  tiny,  dimpled  fist  thrust  into 
the  pocket  into  which  he  always  put  that  bit  of  fresh- 
est and  purest  candy  that — absorbed  in  work  as  he 
was — he  never  forgot  to  buy  on  his  way  to  Bab. 

Professor  Griswold,  instructor  in  a  well-known 
college,  was  tall  and  fair  with  light  hair  which  in 
mustache  and  beard  had  a  golden  tinge.  His  blue 
eyes  had  often  a  distant  look,  as  if  his  thoughts  were 
very  far  away  from  any  object  before  his  vision ;  and 
this  was  so  frequently  the  case  that  his  sister  and  his 
intimate  friends  never  expected  him  to  know  many  of 
the  things  going  on  before  his  face.  But  what  she 
had  said  of  him  was  true;  for  when  he  did  wake  up 
to  his  surroundings,  these  same  dreamy  eyes  had  a 
keenness  that  it  was  in  vain  to  try  to  deceive.  He 
was  a  handsome  man,  with  a  sadness  in  his  face  in 
repose,  but  gay  enough  when,  in  congenial  society,  he 
cast  aside  for  a  time  this  sorrow  of  his  life,  no  less 
deep  because  he  never  referred  to  it.  It  sometimes 
seemed  to  him  that  the  most  congenial  society  in 
which  he  ever  found  himself  was  that  of  his  little 
niece,  Bab,  with  her  charming  prattle. 

"  What's  she  going  to  do  all  day  without  mamma?" 
he  questioned  as  he  held  her  in  his  arms. 

"Mamma!  mamma!"  repeated  the  child,  looking 
about  her  and  putting  out  her  lip  to  whimper. 

"Dear!  dear!    What  a  stupid  creature  a  man  is!  " 


A   TINY   WANDERER  131 

exclaimed  the  professor.  "  To  think,  nurse,  of  my 
reminding  the  little  one  of  her  mother!  No,  no,  pet, 
it's  all  right.  Nurse  will  take  good  care  of  her  and 
play  games  all  day  long  when  the  little  one  is  awake. 
Now — one  good  romp !  Catch  me,  Bab !  " 

And,  putting  the  child  on  the  floor,  he  made  as  if 
to  run  away  from  her,  delighting  as  much  as  she  did 
in  her  toddling  efforts  to  catch  him,  in  her  clutchings 
at  him  and  her  squeals  of  triumph  when  at  last  she 
did  capture  him,  and,  once  more  in  his  arms,  he 
gazed  into  her  beautiful  eyes,  kissed  the  rosy  lips,  felt 
the  warm  clasp  of  the  little  hands  and  heard  the  coo- 
ing voice  calling :  "  Bab  'ouves  'ou,  unc,  unc !  " 

Then  time  was  up ;  the  game  was  over ;  now  it  must 
be  work.  He  gave  the  baby  to  Nell  with  injunctions 
to  be  very  careful  of  her,  and  still  with  no  recogni- 
tion that  Nell  was  not  the  real  nurse.  She  would 
not  tell  him.  As  she  said  later  to  the  cook,  she 
"wasn't  goin'  to  blab  of  Delia's  havin'  a  good  time, 
as  if  she  grudged  it  to  her." 

So  the  professor,  having  told  Nell  to  shut  the  li- 
brary door  behind  her,  sat  down  at  the  desk  and  took 
up  his  papers.  He  was  soon  deep  in  an  abstruse  in- 
vestigation in  which  he  forgot  his  surroundings  and 
only  came  out  to  luncheon  after  the  third  summons. 
At  the  table  even  Bab's  blandishments  could  not  draw 
him  wholly  out  of  his  abstraction;  and  directly  after 
luncheon  he  left  the  house,  saying  that  he  should  be 
back  to  dinner. 

The  whole  morning  Nell  devoted  herself  to  Bab. 
It  was  not  a  hard  task,  for  the  girl  was  fond  of  chil- 


i32       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

dren.  But  at  last  she  grew  tired  of  the  constant  strain 
of  having  to  find  something  to  amuse  the  active  baby. 
More  than  fatigue,  however,  made  her  weary  of  her 
new  occupation.  During  Bab's  nap  she  had  picked  up 
a  novel  lent  her  by  one  of  her  friends ;  she  had  found 
it  very  exciting,  and  she  grudged  the  time  given  from 
it  to  the  child.  After  luncheon  she  said  that  she  was 
going  out  under  the  trees  in  the  field  opposite  the 
house.  She  would  take  the  baby.  Would  the  cook 
mind  the  door  for  her  ?  Then  she  picked  up  Bab  and 
disappeared.  Nearly  all  Mrs.  Ridgeway's  friends 
were  out  of  town  at  that  season,  for  she  had  remained 
at  home  until  her  husband's  business  should  permit 
him  to  accompany  her  to  the  seashore;  and  no  one 
came  the  whole  afternoon. 

"  Now,  sit  down  here  by  me  like  a  good  child,"  said 
Nell,  glad  that  the  baby  had  always  liked  her.  "  Eat 
your  candy  and  don't  bother.  Yes,  you  can  pick  all 
the  flowers  you  want  to,"  she  added,  as  the  little  hand 
reached  out  and  grasped  the  stem  of  a  daisy.  "  Now, 
go  ahead,  and  don't  bother  me ;  I'm  busy."  And  open- 
ing her  book,  she  was  soon  lost  to  the  outside 
world. 

Once  or  twice,  indeed,  at  first,  she  looked  up — to 
find  that  Bab  had  followed  her  permission  too  liter- 
ally and  was  diligently  plucking  every  flower  she  could 
grasp  and  crawling  out  to  those  beyond  her  reach. 
"Oh,  you  bother!"  she  cried;  and,  jumping  up,  she 
seized  Bab  and  set  her  down  again  beside  herself. 
'There!  Keep  still,  can't  you?"  she  said  in  a  per- 
emptory tone.  "You've  made  me  lose  my  place  now, 


A   TINY   WANDERER  133 

an'  it's  so  interestin'  I  can't  breathe  till  I  see  how  it's 
comin'  out."  With  that,  she  thrust  into  Bab's  hand  a 
large  piece  of  the  candy  that  Delia  had  shown  her 
and  which  she  had  brought  to  secure  herself  a  quiet 
hour,  and  then  went  back  to  her  novel.  This  time 
she  became  so  utterly  absorbed  in  it  that  she  left  Bab 
quite  to  herself. 

The  child  was  so  active  that  she  could  do  much  to 
amuse  herself  when  anything  of  interest  was  before 
her;  and  this  great,  open  field  starred  with  daisies  and 
buttercups  and  sweet  with  clover  blooms  was  a  rich 
mine  to  her.  She  lifted  herself  upon  her  unsteady 
feet  and  looked  about  her.  Before  moving,  she  put 
the  candy  to  her  mouth  and  sucked  hard  at  the  dainty 
sweet.  Then,  still  grasping  the  unfinished  stick  of 
candy,  she  started  forward  a  few  steps  and  grabbed  a 
clover-head. 

"  Ugh ! "  she  grunted,  and  pulled  hard. 

Off  came  the  clover  bloom,  nearly  upsetting  Bab 
as  it  yielded.  But  the  child  recovered  herself  and 
stood  a  moment  gazing  with  satisfaction  at  her  prize. 
Then  in  front  of  her  she  saw  another  bloom,  even 
bigger.  She  threw  down  the  first  and  secured  the 
other.  Then  she  stopped  for  another  suck  of  the 
candy.  The  little  teeth  bit  off  a  good-sized  piece  and 
she  stood  munching  it  and  looking  with  satisfaction 
at  the  field  before  her.  It  probably  appeared  to  her 
baby  mind  that  the  world  was  before  her  where  to 
choose.  But  she  began  to  perceive  that  she  could  not 
hold  her  candy  and  pick  flowers  at  the  same  time ;  for 
she  needed  both  hands  for  the  latter.  Her  mouth  was 


I34        DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

full  of  sweets  and  for  the  moment  she  did  not  want 
more.  She  toddled  back  to  Nell  and  tossed  the  candy 
into  her  lap.  "  'Ou  hold  dat ! "  she  said ;  and  the 
sticky  mass  fell  on  Nell's  book. 

"Oh!  oh!  you  little  nuisance!"  cried  the  girl  im- 
patiently ;  and  taking  it  up  with  the  tips  of  her  fingers, 
she  laid  it  on  the  grass  beside  her.  Bab  would  not 
wander  far,  she  reasoned ;  she  would  be  sure  to  come 
back  for  her  candy.  So,  Nell  went  on  with  her  book 
which  every  moment  grew  more  exciting. 

Bab  went  toddling  back  to  her  flowers.  Now,  she 
pulled  off  the  pretty  clover-heads  with  ease,  and  some- 
times she  secured  stem  enough  to  hold  in  one  tiny 
hand.  And  when  she  had  as  many  as  the  small  fin- 
gers could  grasp,  there  were  always  others  further 
on  that  looked  prettier  to  her — as  ungathered  treas- 
ures do  to  older  people.  She  would  let  fall  the  flow- 
ers she  had  been  holding  in  her  hands  and  reach  out 
for  those  waving  on  their  stems  in  the  summer  sun- 
shine, and  these  just  before  her  always  looked  the 
very  biggest  and  best.  Moreover,  Bab  could  never 
make  up  her  baby  mind  whether  she  liked  clovers,  or 
daisies,  or  buttercups  the  very  best  of  all ;  she  had  to 
keep  picking  and  looking  at  them  over  and  over  to' 
decide;  she  was  very  certain,  however,  that  she  loved 
them  all.  It  was  true  that  the  child  was  remarkably 
fond  of  flowers ;  else  she  would  long  before  have-  tired 
of  her  occupation  and  gone  back  to  Nell  for  some 
fresh  amusement. 

The  little  coos  and  croons  of  delight  that  greeted 
her  winsome  prizes  grew  more  and  more  distant  as 


A   TINY   WANDERER  135 

she  wandered  further  off  in  the  great  field.  Once, 
indeed,  Nell  did  look  up,  and  seeing  her  safely  amus- 
ing herself  and  noticing  that  a  rail  fence  which  Bab 
could  not  climb  stretched  across  the  further  side  of 
the  meadow,  lost  the  momentary  anxiety  she  had  felt 
and  returned  to  her  reading.  In  fact,  from  that  time 
she  lost  thought  of  Bab  altogether.  She  had  never 
taken  care  of  children,  and  had  no  sense  of  responsi- 
bility in  regard  to  this  one  who  was  Delia's  charge, 
and  not  hers.  By  and  by  she  must  feed  her  and  put 
her  to  bed,  and  that  would  be  the  end  of  her  nurse's 
duties.  But  the  hour  for  that  was  a  long  way  off, 
and  Nell  was  not  one  to  be  troubled  about  future 
duties. 

Time  went  by.  The  girl  read  on.  Bab,  busy  and 
happy,  wandered  on. 

"  Pooty  fowers !  Pooty  fowers !  "  babbled  the 
child.  "  Bab  'ouves  fowers !  " 

But  her  soft  cries  of  delight  were  unheard  by  the 
reader  living  in  the  world  of  her  novel. 

Nell  had  been  right  in  believing  that  the  baby  could 
not  climb  over  the  rail  fence  at  the  further  end  of 
the  field.  But  she  had  underrated  the  ingenuity  and 
persistence  of  the  little  one  in  struggling  to  secure  the 
prize  on  which  she  had  set  her  heart.  This  was  a 
beautiful  daisy  growing  just  beyond  the  fence,  and,  as 
the  wind  waved  it,  nodding  its  head  in  an  invitation 
to  come  and  take  it,  irresistible  to  Bab.  She  grasped 
the  centre  rail  with  one  hand  and  reached  with  all  her 
little  length  of  arm  through  the  fence.  But  the  arm 
was  too  short  and  the  charming  daisy  still  nodded  un- 


136       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

plucked.  Most  children  under  such  circumstances 
would  have  summoned  the  nurse  by  screams  of  dis- 
appointment But  Bab  was  energetic  and  daring ;  she 
had  not  arrived  at  the  point  where  she  believed  the 
flower  quite  out  of  her  reach,  or  she  would  probably 
have  remembered  Nell  and  appealed  to  her. 

She  tried  reaching  under  the  lower  rail;  and  she 
stretched  so  far  that  she  tumbled  down.  The  ground 
was  soft  and  cushioned  with  grass  and  the  tumble  did 
not  hurt  her.  As  she  lay  there  she  could  look  up  at 
the  daisy  still  nodding  and  nodding,  as  if  it  were  say- 
ing :  "  Come  and  take  me."  Then  she  found  out 
what  had  never  occurred  to  Nell — that  if  she  could 
not  climb  over  the  fence,  or  reach  through  it,  she  could 
very  well  roll  under  it.  In  a  moment  she  was  on  the 
further  side.  Then  she  rose  to  her  little  feet,  and  in 
another  moment  the  daisy  was  in  her  hand.  She  cooed 
and  cooed  her  triumph  and  delight.  Another  one  was 
beyond,  and  that,  too,  she  picked. 

That  brought  her  within  a  few  yards  of  an  embank- 
ment, which  rose  with  a  gradual  slope  about  six  feet. 
Bab  plumped  down  in  the  grass  at  the  foot  of  this 
embankment  to  rest,  and  sat  gazing  up  at  it.  To  her 
little  vision  it  was  a  high  hill,  and  she  was  filled  with 
wonder  as  to  what  was  on  the  top  of  it.  Soon  she 
got  on  her  feet  again  and  began  to  climb  it.  She  had 
taken  only  two  steps  on  the  slope,  however,  when  she 
found  that  it  was  too  hard  for  her,  and  she  began  to 
call  out  to  Nell  to  come  to  her. 

"Ou  turn— take  me!  Ou  turn!  Ou  turn!"  she 
shouted  with  all  her  baby  strength. 


A   TINY   WANDERER  137 

But  it  was  in  vain  that  she  screamed  and  sobbed, 
and  screamed  many  times  more.  A  few  minutes  be- 
fore this,  it  had  suddenly  occurred  to  Nell  that  an- 
other girl  had  told  her  that  she  might  come  to  see 
her  that  afternoon;  therefore  Nell  had  jumped  up  in 
haste  and  gone  into  the  house.  Between  thought  of 
her  possible  visitor  and  her  still  great  absorption  in 
her  book,  she  had  completely  forgotten  Bab. 

On  the  top  of  this  enbankment  which  Bab  was  so 
eager  to  mount  ran  four  shining  steel  rails  stretching 
far  out  of  sight  eastward  and  westward.  It  was  a 
bad  time  to  forget  a  baby — when  she  was  at  the  foot 
of  this  embankment  and  struggling  to  find  out  what 
was  on  top.  After  Bab  had  called  and  sobbed  for  a 
while,  hidden  by  the  tall  grass  from  the  road  between 
the  opposite  side  of  the  field  and  her  home,  she  grew 
angry  at  being  neglected — she  whose  wishes  had  al- 
ways been  granted  as  soon  as  expressed  or  guessed 
at.  She  stamped  her  tiny  foot  and  wrath  gave  her 
fresh  courage.  "  I  dess  I  do  my  ownsef !  "  she  cried. 
And,  dropping  on  her  hands  and  knees,  she  began  to 
crawl  up  the  embankment. 

This  was  very  hard  work,  and  more  than  once  the 
child  screamed  out :  "  Ou  turn,  take  me,  ou  bad  dirl ! 
Ou  turn  now !  Mamma !  mamma ! "  But  when  no- 
body came,  Bab  kept  on  climbing,  until,  at  last,  she 
flung  herself  down  on  the  ground  at  the  top.  "  I'se 
here — look,  mamma !  "  she  cried.  Then,  frightened  at 
her  loneliness,  yet  too  tired  to  move  further,  she 
sighed:  "Bab  tired!  Bab  so  tired!"  Beyond  the 
railroad  track,  down  the  embankment  on  the  other 


138       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

side,  were  more  flowers.  "  Powers !  fowers !  "  she 
cried ;  and  her  baby  hands  reached  out.  But  she  could 
not  cross  to  them.  "  Fse  seepy !  "  she  cooed.  "  Mamma, 
where  is  ou?  I  want  mamma." 

But  even  this  desire  could  not  keep  the  weary  eyes 
from  closing.  She  sank  like  a  kitten  that  falls  asleep 
at  play ;  and  she,  too,  fell  asleep  where  she  dropped. 

Had  the  sun  been  out,  the  rails  would  have  been 
hot  and  the  child  would  of  herself  have  drawn  back 
from  her  terrible  position.  But  a  scud  had  come  up; 
it  had  grown  cold  and  the  warmth  of  the  sand  was 
pleasant  to  her.  The  tiny  hand  that  could  find  no 
other  hand  into  which  to  nestle  itself,  clutched  fast 
hold  of  the  great  steel  rail  over  which  the  little  form 
had  curled  itself;  and  it  was  only  a  minute  before 
Bab  was  asleep. 

What  a  place  for  a  baby  to  have  been  forgotten — 
with  the  express  train  due  on  that  track  in  ten  minutes ! 

Delia  had  been  married  and  was  miles  and  miles 
away,  skimming  along  the  roads  in  Mrs.  Longley's 
car,  with  never  a  thought  of  her  deserted  charge ;  the 
cook  believed  Bab  with  the  second  girl ;  Nell  was  still 
absorbed  in  her  story;  nobody  saw  Bab,  or  dreamed 
where  she  was;  not  a  wagon,  or  a  carriage  traveled 
the  road  crossing  the  track  at  some  little  distance  be- 
yond ;  only  a  motor  car  flew  by,  too  intent  upon  speed 
and  pleasure  to  heed  anything  beside  its  path. 

Bab  was  alone — unless  the  angels  were  watching 
her! 

"  Nell,  bring  down  the  baby  to  have  her  supper ; 


A   TINY   WANDERER  139 

it's  time  she  was  abed!"  shouted  the  cook  upstairs 
to  save  herself  a  tramp;  for  the  house  was  empty, 
except  for  these  two. 

Nell  sprang  up,  and  her  book  with  its  unread  pages 
dropped  to  the  floor.  "  The  baby !  "  she  cried.  "  The 
baby!  Land  o'  pity!  Where  is  she?" 

In  leaps  and  bounds  she  ran  down  the  two  flights 
from  her  own  room  to  the  kitchen  and  stood  before 
the  cook,  gasping  out :  "  The  baby !  Where  -is  she  ? 
I  declare,  I  forgot  everything  about  her!  I  left  her 
out  in  the  field  picking  flowers.  She  must  be  right 
there  now.  Come  and  help  me  find  her.  Land  o'  pity ! 
Whatever  shall  I  do  ?  "  The  front  door  screen  swung 
open  and  clanged  to  on  its  spring,  and  Nell  was  al- 
ready across  the  road  and  searching  the  field  fran- 
tically, calling  at  the  top  of  her  voice :  "  Bab !  Bab ! 
Baby,  where  are  you  ?  " 

Up  and  down  the  large  field  she  ran,  peering 
through  the  tall  grass,  more  perplexed  and  distressed 
every  moment  that  brought  no  answering  call  and  no 
sight  of  Bab.  Nell  would  not  have  had  anything 
happen  to  the  baby  for  the  world.  But  what  could 
have  happened?  Once  she  fixed  her  eyes  with  a 
shudder  upon  the  long  lines  of  railroad.  But  she  saw 
nothing,  nor  any  evidence  of  disaster.  And  then,  how 
could  Bab  ever  have  got  over  the  fence?  No;  she 
must  be  asleep  somewhere  in  the  field.  The  cook  had 
joined  in  the  search.  For  several  minutes  each  ran 
hither  and  thither  in  different  directions,  between 
them  covering  the  ground  well.  Then  they  stopped 
to  consult,  too  anxious  for  the  moment  for  Margaret 


140       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

to  give  vent  to  more  than  a  touch  of  the  storm  of 
vituperation  which  burst  from  her  later;  for  she  was 
very  fond  of  Bab. 

"  Don't  wait  to  scold  now,"  entreated  Nell  as  the 
other  began.  "  Save  up  till  we've  found  Bab.  I'm 
nearly  out  of  my  head  with  her  lost,  an'  the  professor 
comin'  in  any  time  and  not  findin'  her.  It's  my  place 
gone,  anyway.  An'  that  ain't  the  worst  of  it — I'm 
worried  about  the  little  thing.  But  then,  she  must 
be  right  round  here  somewhere." 

"  The  professor  comin'  any  minute !  "  echoed  Mar- 
garet. "  Worse  luck,  he  isn't !  He  sent  word  he  was 
called  out  of  town  sudden,  and  wouldn't  be  back  till 
to-morrow  mornin',  an'  to  take  good  care  of  Bab. 
Yes,  worse  luck,  Nell.  If  he  was  here,  he'd  help  us." 

For  a  moment  the  two  women  looked  into  each 
other's  faces  in  silence;  and  then  the  search  began 
again.  The  field  and  the  road,  the  track,  and  even 
the  field  beyond  it  were  in  darkness  when  they  de- 
sisted and  returned  to  the  house;  everywhere  they 
had  sought  in  vain.  Nell  was  sobbing;  but  for  all 
that  the  other  did  not  "spare  her.  "  I  don't  care  what 
you  say,"  retorted  the  girl  hotly  at  last  "  I'm  cryin' 
for  the  baby.  You  don't  think  the  cars  went  over 
her?  No!  I  know  she's  stolen.  I  shall  tell  the  pro- 
fessor so.  It's  all  that  horrid  Delia  because  she  hasn't 
come  home  yet." 


XIV 

BRAVELY     DONE ! 

"WHY,  Jimmy,  what  ails  you?  These  are  good 
enough.  Grace  will  never  haggle  over  a  shade  when 
the  color  is  so  near.  Let's  take  these." 

"  You  sha'n't  do  it,  Ned.  Grace  ought  to  have  the 
color  she  wants  for  her  gloves  if " 

"  Even  if  it  isn't  in  A ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  is — if  we  take  the  trouble  to  find  it." 

"  But  the  other  errands  have  taken  more  time  than 
we  counted  on;  we  are  late  now."  Neither  boy  in- 
tended to  quarrel  with  the  other ;  but  each  was  angry. 
Ned  knew  that  the  color  they  were  looking  at  was 
near  enough  the  required  shade  to  suit  Grace;  he 
understood  his  sister,  and  he  was  sure  that  she  would 
be  better  pleased  to  have  them  return  in  season  to 
give  his  mother  a  drive  than  spend  so  much  time  in 
laboring  for  a  perfect  match.  But  Jimmy  had  set  his 
heart  on  her  having  exactly  what  she  wanted;  and 
Ned  told  himself  that  his  friend  was  a  very  trying 
fellow  sometimes. 

He  gave  in  to  him,  however,  enough  to  go  to  sev- 
eral other  shops;  but  he  was  not  amiable  about  it. 

Thus,  before  the  errands  had  been  done,  the  boys 
were  between  two  and  three  hours  behind  the  time 
that  they  had  planned  to  set  out  on  their  return. 

141 


I42      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

They   would   miss   luncheon   at   the   hotel;   so    they 
waited  to  take  it  in  A . 

"What's  the  reason  that  you  always  feel  pleas- 
anter  after  dinner?  "  laughed  Jimmy  as  they  rose  from 
the  table. 

"I  suspect  one  reason  why  you  feel  better,"  re- 
torted Ned,  "is  that  you  got  what  you  were  after  in 
the  gloves,  and  though  you  wouldn't  say  a  word  about 
it  for  the  world,  you  know  I  shall  tell  Grace." 

Jimmy  shook  his  head.  "  No,  indeed,  you  must  not 
do  any  such  thing,"  he  answered.  "  It's  not  worth  it." 
But  his  tone  was  not  a  strenuous  protest  against  Ned's 
reporting  his  endeavors. 

They  set  off  at  a  fair  pace.  But  if  Mrs.  Longley 
had  gone  to  drive  that  day,  this  must  have  been  long 
before  their  return;  so,  there  was  no  especial  haste  on 
the  run  back  to  their  friends,  and  they  went  along 
talking  amicably;  for  although  Ned  was  somewhat 
quick-tempered,  he  was  noble-spirited  and  never 
sulked  over  not  getting  his  own  way  when  he  per- 
ceived that  another's  had  been  better.  In  this  case 
he  was  glad  that  Jimmy  had  persevered  and  succeeded 
where  he  would  not  have  had  the  patience;  and  in 
any  event  they  would  have  returned  too  late  for  the 
drive. 

As  they  rode,  the  boys  commented  more  freely  on 
persons  and  incidents  than  they  had  been  able  to  do 
in  the  midst  of  a  party  where  the  very  individual  com- 
mented on  might  chance  to  be  coming  round  a  corner 
toward  them  at  the  moment  they  were  speaking. 
"  Rex  Brooke  is  an  all-round  fellow,"  declared 


BRAVELY    DONE!  143 

Jimmy.  "  No  nonsense  about  him — no  airs.  And  as 
for  fun,  it's  working  like  yeast  in  him  all  the  time." 

Ned  laughed.  "  I  never  heard  such  a  comparison," 
he  said ;  "  but  it's  rather  good — for  you,  Jimmy !  " 

"  Oh,  of  course — for  me !  "  retorted  the  other.  "  I'm 
not  a  budding  author,  with  a  book  of  synonyms  in 
my  trunk — oh,  I'm  not  going  to  betray  you." 

"  Betray  me !  To  whom  ?  You  know  it,  Grace 
knows  it,  and,  it  may  be,  all  of  you,  if  you  mean 
that.  And  Dorothy  complimented  me  on  my  bright- 
ness in  thinking  to  bring  it;  she  wanted  a  word  or 
two  herself.  I'm  not  as  bright  as  Brooke ;  but  I  don't 
put  on  any  more  airs,  Reid."  Ned's  tone  was  so  ag- 
grieved that  Jimmy  shouted. 

"  Ha !  ha !  ha ! "  he  cried.  "  I've  really  teased  you ! 
De-lighted!" 

The  other  joined  in  his  laugh. 

"  I  admire  Colonel  Pell,"  said  Ned.  "  I  never  saw 
a  man  so  famous  as  he  is  so  ready  for  fun.  When 
he's  with  us — and  he  seems  to  like  to  be  round  when 
we're  sitting  out  in  the  evening — he's  just  one  of  us." 

"  Or  more  so !  "  suggested  Jimmy. 

"Yes — or  younger  still,  as  you  say.  I  don't  see 
how  Priscy,  for  all  he  neglected  her  when  he  was  so 
busy  and  didn't  know  anything  about  her,  can  keep 

on  disliking  him  so  now — or Ned  broke  off  and 

turned  sharply  upon  his  companion  with  a  question  in 
his  face  which  finished  his  sentence. 

Jimmy  nodded  emphatically.  "  That's  exactly  what 
7  think — does  she?"  he  said  to  the  other's  unspoken 
suggestion.  "You'll  see." 


144       DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

So  the  talk  drifted  on  about  one  and  another,  and 
a  few  miles  reeled  themselves  off  in  pleasant  fashion. 

But  the  motor  car  and  its  occupants  had  started  to 
meet  them  long  before  they  left  the  city. 

"How  beautiful  it  is  here!"  cried  Dorothy  as, 
after  a  long  spin,  they  reached  the  brow  of  a  hill 
where  the  view,  although  still  that  of  field  and  tree 
and  distant  mountain,  suggested  by  the  character  of 
its  houses  and  gardens  the  proximity  of  a  city  rather 
than  a  farming  district.  "  Slow  here,  Rex,  please. 

That  must  be  A off  in  the  distance  to  the  left. 

We  must  be  coming  into  one  of  the  suburban  towns." 

"A can't  be  more  than  ten  miles  off  now;  do 

you  think  it  is,  Mr.  Brooke?"  asked  Lulu. 

"  I'm  sure  it's  not,"  cried  Miss  Knowles.  "  I  for- 
get the  name  of  this  place,"  she  added;  "but  it  has 
a  familiar  look;  it  seems  as  if  I  had  heard  it." 

"  Yes,  I  should  say  we  were  about  ten  miles  out  of 
the  city,"  answered  Rex,  glancing  at  his  questioner. 

"  We  ought  not  to  go  really  into  A ,  lest  we 

should  miss  the  fellows  coming  out  by  another  street. 
We  ought  to  keep  on  the  main  road." 

;<  There  they  are  now,  I'm  sure !  "  cried  Dorothy. 
"  Go  more  slowly  for  a  minute,  Rex.  Yes,  I'm  quite 
sure  it's  they;  and  they  are  making  good  time,  too." 

The  others  confirmed  her  belief,  and,  with  the  car 
stopped,  they  sat  watching.  Then  Dorothy's  eyes 
turned  to  the  railroad  which  at  the  foot  of  the  hill 
and  some  distance  beyond  them  crossed  the  road. 

"What's   that   on   the   track?     Oh,    nothing,    of 


BRAVELY    DONE!  145 

course ! "  she  answered  herself.  The  long  straight 
lines  of  rails  converging1  to  a  vanishing  point  had  a 
fascination  for  her.  "  Let  us  wait  here  for  the  boys, 
Rex,"  she  said,  as  she  still  gazed  at  them.  "  Listen !  " 
she  added  after  a  few  moments.  "  There  comes  the 
train!  See  the  smoke  just  beyond  the  curve.  Now 
it's  just  coming  into  sight — a  long  train,  too." 

"Where's  the  gate-man?  Do  you  suppose  he's 
asleep?"  exclaimed  Miss  Knowles. 

"Whew!    He  isn't  there!"  said  Rex. 

*'  I  hope  they'll  see  the  train ! "  said  Dorothy. 
"How  fast  it's  rushing!  Even  though  it's  far  off 
and  facing  us,  I  can  see  that."  Suddenly,  she  leaned 
forward.  "Oh!  Oh!"  She  sprang  to  her  feet  with 
a  cry  of  horror,  leaning  still  further  forward  with 
white  face  and  straining  eyes.  "  Look  I  Look!  What's 
that  on  the  track  down  there?  It's  moving!  A  child! 
A  baby!'' 

She  was  about  to  spring  out  when  that  instant  Rex, 
pushing  her  back  into  her  seat,  started  the  car  at  full 
speed  down  the  long  hill,  stopping  sharply  at  the 
crossing. 

The  next  instant  he  had  leaped  out,  sprung  across 
the  track,  and  was  rushing  at  the  top  of  his  speed  to- 
ward the  child  whom  the  noise  had  wakened.  As  he 
sped,  he  signalled  with  all  his  might,  and  the  sharp 
whistle:  "Down  brakes!"  answered  him.  In  an- 
other moment  there  sounded  the  great,  leaping  throbs 
of  the  mighty  engine  panting  to  rush  on  but  clutched 
in  the  iron  grasp  which  in  time  would  master  it.  In 
time  it  would  master  it — yes.  But  there  was  no  time 


146 

— no  chance !  Rex  saw  that,  at  best,  it  could  not  stop 
until  a  part  of  the  train  had  passed  over  the  spot  where 
the  baby  lay.  He  was  a  great  runner,  but  he  could  not 
get  there  first.  Yet  creeping  with  horror,  he  still 
rushed  on,  when :  "  Hist !  Room !  "  came  from  behind 
him;  and  along  the  narrow  way  between  track  and 
embankment  came  the  rush  of  wheels,  not  running — 
flying ! 

Before  he  realized  that  it  had  passed  him,  it  was 
far  on  the  way  toward  the  child. 

Following,  still  signalling,  he  watched,  breathless, 
the  terrible  race  between  train  and  cycle,  one  struggling 
in  vain  to  stop^  in  season,  the  other  speeding  as  if 
winged — the  Angel  of  Death,  and  the  shining  Angel 
of  Deliverance! 

If  anything  should  give  way  at  that  breakneck  speed ! 
If  he  should  fall!  Rex  struggled  in  vain  to  lessen 
the  fast-widening  distance  between  himself  and  the 
rider.  All  at  once,  he  saw  this  rider  leap  and  the 
empty  cycle  run  curving  and  topple  down  the  embank- 
ment At  the  same  instant  something  small  and  white 
was  tossed  over  the  bank  and  lay  there  just  beyond  the 
cycle.  The  rider  he  could  not  see.  Was  he  under 
those  terrible  wheels  ?  Rex  turned  sick  with  horror. 

But  now  he  was  crowded  to  the  very  verge  of  the 
embankment  as  the  long  train  swept  past  him.  He 
saw  the  engineer  who  had  been  watching  from  his 
cab,  lean  far  out,  gazing  down.  Rex  had  expected  him 
to  stop;  but  instead  there  came  the  signal:  "Off 
brakes!"  and  he  perceived  that  the  train  was  begin- 
ning to  gather  speed  again.  It  was  monstrous  to  de- 


BRAVELY    DONE!  147 

sert  a  victim  so!  Rex  threw  himself  on  the  ground 
and  looked  along  the  line  where,  close  beside  the  rails, 
he  had  last  seen  the  flying  figure  of  the  cycler.  There 
it  lay,  motionless  as  death.  At  that  distance  he  could 
not  tell  how  the  giant  wheels  had  crushed  it — or  a  part 
of  it — for  one  hand  and  foot  stretched  out  some  way 
free  of  the  rails. 

Avoiding  the  touch  of  the  cars,  Rex  rose  again  and 
ran  on  toward  this  motionless  figure  by  the  track, 
appalled  at  what  he  should  find  there.  But  before 
he  reached  it,  another  cycle  sped  past  him,  and  Jimmy 
Reid  flinging  himself  off,  knelt  by  the  prostrate  form 
beyond  which  the  train  had  now  passed.  Running 
steps  and  panting  breaths  behind  him  showed  that  the 
whole  party  was  following. 

"  His  left  foot  is  so  close  to  the  rail,  I  don't  see 
how  the  wheels  could  have  helped  crushing  it,"  said 
Jimmy  as  Rex  came  up. 

"  And  look  at  his  elbow ! "  exclaimed  the  latter. 
"  It  seems  as  if  that  must  have  been  struck.  Has  he 
been  hit  ?  He  is  so  white  and  still." 

"  Bring  water ! "  called  Jimmy.  And  Rex  echoed 
the  call  to  those  behind  who  would  save  the  time  his 
run  back  would  take.  Miss  -Knowles,  last  and  nearest 
the  gate-house,  too  excited  to  comprehend  what  had 
been  asked  of  her,  came  on  as  if  she  had  not  heard 
him.  But  Lulu  in  advance  of  her  turned  and  ran  back. 
The  next  moment  she  came  out  of  the  house  bringing 
a  pail  half  full  of  water  that  she  had  caught  up  there. 
Rex  flew  to  meet  and  relieve  her  of  it  and  to  rush 
forward  with  his  burden. 


148    DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

Dorothy  knelt  beside  Jimmy  as  he  laid  his  hand  on 
Ned's  heart.  Oh,  what  a  mercy,  she  thought,  that 
Grace  was  not  there!  But  would  Grace's  lips  have 
trembled  more  than  her  own  were  doing,  or  her  heart 
have  beaten  with  more  suffocating  throbs  ?  "  Is  he — is 
he — living?"  she  faltered. 

"His  heart  beats,"  returned  Jimmy.  "But  it 
doesn't  amount  to  much.  I  think  he's  faint,  dear  old 
fellow!" 

"  I'll  bathe  his  face  and  wrists,"  said  Dorothy  with  a 
deep  breath  of  relief  as  she  drew  out  her  handkerchief 
and  refrained  from  hurrying  Rex  with  the  water  when 
he  was  already  doing  his  utmost. 

Ned  was,  certainly,  somewhat  faint.  But  with  the 
strength  of  youth  and  aided  by  the  voices  about  him, 
he  had  already  begun  to  revive,  and  was  about  to  open 
his  eyes  when  Dorothy  spoke.  But  he  was  so  sure  that 
he  should  feel  infinitely  better  after  she  had  bathed  his 
face  and  wrists,  that  he  still  kept  his  eyes  closed  until 
he  could  look  up  into  her  face  pale  with  anxiety, 
searching  his  own  with  eager  solicitude. 

"  Thank  you !  "  he  whispered  softly ;  for  he  really 
had  not  fully  recovered  the  breath  which  had  been 
almost  shaken  out  of  him. 

She  turned  to  Jimmy,  her  face  flooded  with  joy. 
"Oh,  look!  Listen!"  she  cried.  Then  the  tears 
came.  But  she  checked  them.  "  Oh,  Ned,"  she  whis- 
pered back,  "  what  a  wonderful  thing  to  do ! " 

"  It  was  a  close  shave,"  he  answered  smiling  up  at 
her,  and  speaking  audibly  now  to  the  others  also  who 
had  gathered  about  him.  "After  I  had  grabbed  the 


DOROTHY    KNELT    BESIDE    JIMMY. 


BRAVELY   DONE!  149 

baby  off  the  rail,  there  was  no  chance  to  get  out  my- 
self. If  I  had  lifted  my  head,  it  would  have  been 
knocked  into  pudding.  The  only  thing  was  to  lie 
still  after  I  had  managed  to  pull  off  the  rail.  I  suspect 
I  had  to  keep  still  anyway,"  he  added;  "there  didn't 
seem  to  be  anything  left  of  me.  The  Lord  knows  how 
I  got  out  of  it — I  don't,"  he  added  reverently.  "  If  the 
youngster  had  crawled  to  the  further  rail,  'twould  have 
been  up  with  both  of  us.  No — not  a  scratch  on  me, 
except  what  the  sand  clawed  into  my  hand  when  I  fell 
off — on  purpose !  How  has  the  kid  fared  ?  " 

Ned  had  been  lifted  to  the  edge  of  the  embankment 
and  was  sitting  up,  a  little  dizzy  and  not  a  little  weak, 
but  gathering  strength  as  the  minutes  went  by. 

Meanwhile,  Lulu  and  Miss  Knowles  had  run  down 
the  embankment  and  picked  up  Bab  who  by  this  time 
was  giving  evidence  that  her  lungs,  at  least,  were  un- 
injured and  that  she  was  determined  to  be  attended  to, 
now  that  there  was  some  one  on  hand  to  do  it.  Lulu 
lifted  her  up  tenderly  and  succeeded  in  soothing  her  a 
little. 

"  I  don't  believe  she's  hurt,"  she  called  as  Rex  stood 
watching. 

"  Do  let  me  have  her,  please,"  said  Miss  Knowles, 
suiting  the  action  to  the  word  and  taking  Bab  out  of 
Lulu's  arms.  "I'm  more  used  to  children  than  you 
are." 

"  Mamma !  mamma ! "  cried  Bab  looking  about  her 
and  then  staring  with  baby  intentness  into  the  face 
looking  down  upon  her — a  pretty  face  and  a  very  kind 
one.  She  yielded  herself  to  the  arms  enfolding  her 


150    DOROTHY    BROOKE'S   VACATION 

with  gentle  firmness.  "  Mamma !  mamma !  "  she 
whimpered  a  few  times,  and  then  hid  her  little  face 
against  Miss  Knowles'  shoulder. 

"  Some  one  has  said  that  everybody  has  some  handle 
by  which  to  be  lifted,"  whispered  Rex  in  an  aside  to 
Lulu  who — her  work  thus  taken  from  her — stood  look- 
ing on.  "  But  who  would  have  imagined  baby-tend- 
ing would  have  been  the  fussy  Miss  Knowles'  handle? 
Yet,  I  suppose  that's  one  thing  which  makes  life  inter- 
esting; you  can't  tell  what  is  going  to  turn  up — I 
should*  think  you  couldn't ! "  he  added  with  a  sudden 
change  of  tone.  "  I  always  thought  Longley  a  fine 
fellow ;  but  he's  no  end  of  a  hero." 

"  Indeed,  he  is ! "  cried  Lulu,  her  eyes  shining. 
"  And  a  good  many  heroes  could  not  have  done  what 
he  has,  no  matter  how  much  they  had  tried  to.  How 
he  flashed  past !  How  every  move  told !  " 

"She  looks  really  pretty,  doesn't  she?"  asked  Rex, 
his  eyes  on  Miss  Knowles  who  was  coming  carefully 
up  the  embankment,  Bab  still  in  her  arms.  And  he 
went  to  her  aid. 

"  What  a  pretty  child !  "  cried  Ned,  as,  leaning  heav- 
ily on  Jimmy's  arm,  although  he  assumed  that  he  did 
it  merely  to  please  his  friend,  he  walked  on  with  the 
others  to  the  car.  It  took  some  time  to  get  there ;  for 
Ned  was  much  shaken  up,  although  he  would  not 
own  it. 

After  they  were  seated,  Ned  behind  with  Miss 
Knowles  and  Bab,  Dorothy  and  Lulu  in  front  with 
Rex,  and  Jimmy  on  his  cycle  and  wheeling  Ned's  cycle, 
Miss  Knowles  suggested  that  he  take  the  injured  cycle 


BRAVELY   DONE!  151 

to  the  repair  shop  at  once,  while  they  would  seek  for 
the  child's  home  and  relieve  its  distressed  parents. 

Jimmy  flushed  scarlet  with  anger  at  her  utter  in- 
difference to  Ned's  need  of  attention  and  was  about  to 
express  his  mind,  when  the  car  just  starting  suddenly 
stopped,  and  Rex,  springing  out,  came  to  the  side  and 
held  out  his  hand  to  Miss  Knowles. 

She  looked  at  him  in  amazement.  "  I  don't  under- 
stand," she  said. 

"  I'm  here  to  allow  you  to  carry  out  your  propo- 
sition, Miss  Knowles,  in  your  own  person.  Let  me 
help  you  and  the  child  out  and  then  you  can  go  your- 
self in  search  of  its  parents.  Look  about  for  them 
until  dark  and  then  come  up  by  train.  Telephone  to 
me  from  the  station  and  I'll  run  over  for  you  in 
the  car.  Come,"  And  he  persistently  held  out  his 
hand. 

"  What !     I,  alone  ?  "  said  the  lady,  shrinking  back. 

"Certainly,  Miss  Knowles.  You  are  the  only  per- 
son who  puts  any  anxiety  this  child's  parents  may 
feel — if  they  can  feel  anything  after  leaving  a  baby 
as  this  one  was  left — who  puts  that,  I  say,  before 
any  thought  of  the  immediate  needs  of  the  splendid 
fellow  to  whose  daring  and  skill  the  baby  owes  her 
life.  Longley  can  scarcely  hold  his  head  up,  hard  as 
he  is  trying  to  do  it.  All  the  rest  of  us  will  take 
him  home  and  look  after  him  first.  The  evening 
papers  will  advertise  the  child  and  we  can  restore  it 
in  the  morning,  and  perhaps  telephone  to-night." 

*"  Splendid!  splendid ?"  cried  Lulu  in  an  aside  to 
Dorothy  whose  eyes  were  flashing  with  excitement  and 


I52      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

approval.  "I  do  like  somebody  who  can  strike  out 
from  the  shoulder." 

Dorothy's  glance  and  the  pressure  of  her  hand 
answered  Lulu.  Then  she  turned  herself  about  on  the 
seat.  "  My  brother  is  right,  Miss  Knowles,"  she  cried. 
"  Decide  this  minute,  please ;  for  we're  going  to  start 
the  next." 

"  Indeed !  I  really  didn't  know,"  sighed  that  lady 
repentantly.  "I  wouldn't  for  the  world  have  Ned 
Longley  miss  anything  he  needs.  He  seemed  so  well 
recovered,  I  didn't  understand.  Of  course,  we  will 
all  go  on  at  once." 

"  That's  just  the  trouble  with  her,"  Jimmy  said  later 
to  Grace;  "she  doesn't  understand;  she  thinks  the 
world  runs  her  way.  If  only  she'd  wake  up." 

Ned's  earnest  protestations  that  he  was  well  enough, 
and  that  they  ought  to  seek  the  child's  home  imme- 
diately went  for  nothing,  and  they  all  set  out  for  the 
hotel,  Jimmy  declaring  that  a  night's  anxiety  would 
do  such  people  good  and  that  this  was  all  it  would  be. 

On  the  homeward  drive  she  cooed,  to  Bab  who 
whimpered  back,  and,  finally,  went  to  sleep,  when  Miss 
Knowles  covered  her  with  her  own  wrap  and  sat  si- 
lent, scarcely  daring  to  breathe  lest  the  baby  should 
arouse. 

Ned  sighed  as  he  alighted  at  the  hotel  door. 

"You're  glad  to  get  home?"  questioned  Dorothy 
looking  at  him  anxiously.  "  You  are  ill  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  not  ill,"  he  smiled  at  her.  "  But  home  is 
always  a  good  place  to  reach." 

"I'm  so  glad  you  have  your  mother  to  look  after 


BRAVELY   DONE!  153 

you,"  she  answered  him — "  and  Jimmy,"  she  added 
as  the  latter  took  his  arm  and  led  him  upstairs,  in 
spite  of  Ned's  protests  that  he  was  quite  able  to  take 
care  of  himself. 

"  If  he  had  been,  he  wouldn't  have  accepted  help," 
she  said  to  Lulu  who  stood  by.  "  Come,  Miss 
Knowles,"  she  added;  "we  must  show  Mrs.  Longley 
Ned's*  find/" 


XV 

ANXIETIES 

"  REID,"  said  Ned  turning  on  his  pillow ;  for,  con- 
fessing to  a  "  tremendous  headache  "  and  a  soreness  in 
all  his  bones,  he  had  been  induced  to  go  to  bed,  "  what 
time  did  Manson  come  back  ?  " 

"  Oh,  don't  mind  about  Manson  now,"  returned  the 
other  soothingly.  "  Don't  think  of  anything — just  go 
to  sleep." 

But  Ned,  looking  sharply  at  his  friend,  repeated 
the  question.  As  the  latter  hesitated  for  a  moment, 
he  lifted  his  head  and  faced  Jimmy.  "  He  has  not 
come  home  at  all,  has  he,  Reid  ?  Tell  me." 

"  N— o,  not  yet,"  admitted  Jimmy.  "  But  it's  not 
late ;  he  will  be  here,  of  course.  I  wish  you  would  go 
to  sleep." 

"  There's  no  '  of  course '  about  it ;  he  won't  be  here. 
He  had  no  permission  to  use  the  motor  car  at  all  to- 
day. He's  cleared  out  with  it — stolen  it !  You  know 
that — don't  you  ?  "  he  insisted,  as  the  other  was  silent. 

"  It  does  look  like  that,"  admitted  Jimmy  reluc- 
tantly. "  But  I  dare  say  we  shall  find  that  he " 

"  We  shall  not  find  that  he  has  done  anything  dif- 
ferent!"  retorted  Ned.  "  If  you  want  more  evidence, 
last  night  the  fellow  asked  me  for  an  advance ;  he  had 

154 


ANXIETIES  155 

a  long  rigmarole  of  explanations  that  I  didn't  half 
listen  to,  and — fool  that  I  was ! — I  gave  it  to  him." 

"  Whew !  "  whistled  Jimmy. 

"And  my  father's  car  that  I  promised  him  to  take 
care  of !  It's  an  awfully  expensive  <?ne,  Reid." 

"  One  knows  that  by  looking  at  it,"  said  Jimmy. 
"  But  you  can't  do  anything  to-night,  old  fellow.  You'll 
have  to  have  a  night's  sleep,  anyway.  Perhaps  Man- 
son  will  turn  up  this  evening." 

"No,  he  won't,"  reiterated  Ned.  "I  never  liked 
that  fellow;  he's  sly.  I  shall  have  to  go  after  him — 
and  I'll  start  this  minute."  He  sprang  up  and  stood 
on  the  floor,  balancing  himself  unsteadily  for  a  mo- 
ment. Then  he  dropped  back  and  flung  himself  on  the 
bed  again.  "  I'm  too  dizzy  to  stand,"  he  admitted  re- 
luctantly. "  I'm  afraid  I  can't  chase  thieves  very  fast. 
I'll  try  it  to-morrow." 

"  Why  not  leave  it  to  me  ?  "  asked  Jimmy.  "  I  shall 
be  delighted  to  try,  if  you  will  give  me  permission." 

"  Take  all  the  permission  you  want,  and  go  ahead," 
answered  Ned. 

"Do  you  really  mean  it?  May  I  pitch  in  just  as  I 
want  to  ?  " 

"  The  harder  your  pitch  in,  the  better — provided 
you  hit  Manson — the  knave ! " 

"  Thank  you." 

The  other  laughed.  "  I  should  say  it  was :  '  Thank 
you! '  "  he  answered. 

"  But  I  mustn't  have  you  on  my  mind,"  said  Jimmy. 
"  Promise  me  you  will  go  to  sleep." 


156      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"  I  promise  you  I'll  try,"  returned  Ned. 

And  Jimmy  left  him. 

Mrs.  Longley  had  begun  to  walk  about  a  little,  but 
had  not  yet  tried  the  stairs.  Had  she  gone  to  drive 
that  day,  Ned  or. Rex  would  have  carried  her  down. 
Her  sitting-room  had  become  the  gathering  place  of 
all  the  party  when  news  was  to  be  told,  or  plans  were 
to  be  discussed.  That  afternoon  she  listened  with  tears 
in  her  eyes  and  a  heart  of  joy  to  the  story  of  her  son's 
gallant  deed.  As  Lulu  and  Dorothy  were  finishing  the 
account,  Miss  Knowles  walked  in  with  Bab  in  her 
arms — indeed,  she  had  scarcely  allowed  the  child  out 
of  them.  Others  also  were  fond  of  children,  but  no 
one  had  interfered  with  her  monopoly.  "  Isn't  she 
a  beauty?"  she  asked,  holding  her  off  for  Mrs.  Long- 
ley  to  gaze  upon. 

"  Yes.     Bring  her  to  me,  please,"  said  that  lady. 

"  Oh,  I'm  afraid  she'll  cry  with  strangers,"  returned 
Miss  Knowles,  approaching  slowly. 

"What  are  you?"  laughed  Dorothy.  And  she 
watched  the  transfer  from  the  other's  reluctant  arms 
to  Mrs.  Longley's  lap  where  the  little  one,  turning 
hither  and  thither  with  the  pathetic  little  whimper: 
"  Mamma !  mamma ! "  at  last  nestled  into  the  loving 
clasp  and  seemed  fairly  content. 

Miss  Knowles  sat  down  beside  her,  claiming  a  part 
of  her  attention.  "  Her  mamma's  heart  must  be  ach- 
ing," she  said. 

"We  will  try  to  relieve  it  as  soon  as  possible," 
answered  Mrs.  Longley.  "  But  I  think  you  were  right 
not  to  wander  about  A this  afternoon  on  a  wild 


ANXIETIES  157 

goose  chase.  Then,  it's  possible  she  would  have  gone 
to  the*  wrong  home." 

"  I  don't  understand  how,"  said  Miss  Knowles. 

"Children  have  been  kidnapped  for  reward,  Anna, 
as  we  all  know;  and  this  little  one  might  have  been 
claimed  so." 

"  But  she'd  have  known  her  own  home,  Mrs.  Long- 
ley,"  persisted  the  other ;  "  she  would  have  laughed 
when  she  had  reached  it,  instead  of  crying." 

"  My  experience  is  that  it's  a  little  hard  to  predict 
when  a  baby  will  laugh,  and  not  cry,"  answered  Mrs. 
Longley  looking  politely  amused. 

"  She  will,  certainly,  cry  if  I  don't  get  her  some- 
thing to  eat,"  said  Miss  Knowles.  And  she  carried 
the  little  one  off,  cooing  to  her  as  she  went. 

It  was  then  that  Jimmy  Reid  came  in  to  get  from 
Mrs.  Longley  also  the  permission  that  he  had  received 
from  Ned.  He  could  not — and  he  ought  not — to  keep 
the  continued  absence  of  chauffeur  and  car  from  her. 
He  found  that  she  would  be  only  too  glad  of  all  the 
help  that  he  could  give  her.  But  they  would  have  to 
call  in  the  police,  would  they  not? 

"  Oh,  yes,  indeed !  "  said  Jimmy.    And  he  was  off. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  him,  Mrs.  Longley  turned 
to  her  daughter. 

"  Grace,  where  is  Rose  Hewes  ?  "  she  asked.  "  You 
said  she  was  not  at  luncheon.  Have  you  seen  her 
this  afternoon?" 

When  Grace  knew  nothing  about  her,  Dorothy 
volunteered  to  see  if  she  was  in  her  room.  But  she 
returned  promptly,  saying  that  she  was  not ;  for  there 


158      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

had  been  no  reply  to  the  knock  on  her  door.  "  Where 
can  she  be  ?  "  wondered  Dorothy.  "  What  is  it,  Mrs. 
Longley?  Why  do  you  look  so  strangely?  Is  any- 
thing wrong?  I  shall  have  to  know  if  there  is;  I 
brought  Rose  here." 

Still,  Mrs.  Longley  hesitated  to  offer  to  the  three 
young  girls  watching  her  the  suggestion  which  had 
made  her  own  face  pale  and  her  eyes  strained  and 
which  at  the  moment  occupied  her  far  more  than  the 
possible  loss  of  the  motor  car.  She  answered  ambigu- 
ously :  "  Yes,  I'm  afraid  she  has  wandered  off  some- 
where and  something  has  happened  to  her.  Don't  you 
three  girls  want  to  go  out  to  look  for  her  a  little? 
Where  is  Priscy?" 

"  She  was  sitting  on  one  of  the  benches  of  the  ve-  . 
randa  as  we  came  past,"  said  Dorothy.  "  She  looked 
as  if  she  wanted  to  join  us.  But  Colonel  Pell  was, 
evidently,  telling  her  some  story  and  she  didn't  like  to 
do  it.  We  only  nodded,  not  to  interrupt  them.  Priscy 
is  in  her  right  place,  Mrs.  Longley,"  she  said  with  the 
air  of  one  sure  of  sympathy.  "  They  would  have  come 
to  us  if  they  had  seen  us  arrive  with  Ned  disabled, 
and  Bab,"  she  added  at  the  other's  assent ;  "  but  they 
were  away  off  on  the  end  veranda.  I  only  looked  to 
see  if,  possibly,  Rose  was  there.  You  don't  mind  be- 
ing left  alone?" 

"  No,  indeed !  And,  girls,  I  wouldn't  say  anything 
about  Rose  quite  yet;  you'll  probably  find  her,  and 
it's  not  best  to  make  a  mystery  about  her  absence. 
Look  around  a  little  in  the  direction  in  which  she  went 
away  this  morning ;  but  be  sure  you  do  not  go  far  from 


ANXIETIES  159 

the  house.  And  come  back  to  me  soon;  I  shall  want 
to  hear." 

Left  alone,  Mrs.  Longley's  face  grew  still  more 
grave.  "  Rose  Hewes  and  that  chauffeur !  "  she  mur- 
mured. "  Both  gone !  Is  it  possible  that  they  have 
gone  together?  The  man  I  always  disliked.  And 
what  do  I  know  of  the  girl  ?  She,  certainly,  looks  the 
last  one  who  would  go  on  an  all-day  excursion 
with  a  man  like  that,  and  in  a  car  borrowed  without 
leave — although  that  she  might  not  have  known.  Or 
has  she  gone  off  with  him  permanently — married  the 
fellow?  She  has  been  by  herself  a  good  many  hours, 
in  her  own  room  as  we  believed.  Instead  of  that,  has 
she  been  listening  to  Manson?  I  can't  believe  it — 
and  yet,  it  looks  so — both  gone  at  the  same  time — and 
where?  Have  I  been  an  unfaithful  guardian?  My 
accident  has  perhaps  wrought  more  ill  than  the  loss 
of  our  car,  and  that's  bad  enough.  We  may  get  that 
back,  however.  But  Rose ! " 

A  knock  at  the  door  brought  Priscy.  Mrs.  Longley 
was  glad  of  an  interruption  to  her  own  troubled 
thoughts. 

"  Colonel — my  father  has  let  me  free  at  last,"  said 
the  girl.  "  He  is  really  entertaining  though ;  he  has 
been  telling  me  stories  of  army  life."  But  even  lightly 
as  she  spoke,  her  listener  saw  a  shadow  fall  across  her 
face.  In  that  talk  had  been  no  mention  of  her  mother, 
no  allusion  to  her,  or  to  his  former  neglect  of  herself. 
Priscy  was  sensitively  alive  to  the  broad  results  which 
came  from  his  trained  and  alert  mind  and  his  wide 
experience  of  life;  she  enjoyed  his  finely  modulated 


160      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

voice  and  felt  the  subtle  charm  of  his  bearing  and  man- 
ner, the  keenness  of  his  wit  and  the  grace  of  his  utter- 
ance; he  won  from  her  a  reluctant  admiration,  and 
she  had  a  certain  pride  in  him,  even  while  she  knew 
that  she  was  as  far  as  ever  from  forgiving  him.  "  He 
is  a  gentleman  as  much  as  Dorothy's  father  is," 
thought  the  girl ;  "  he  knows  as  well  how  to  behave — 
but  his  heart  is  so  different !  "  And  the  dignity  and 
distance  of  her  manner  as  she  thanked  him  for  her 
pleasure  in  listening  to  his  stories  chilled  him. 

As  she  left  him,  he  looked  after  her  with  an 
expression  that  few  had  ever  seen  in  Colonel  Pell's 
eyes. 

"  Can  I  ever  do  it?  "  he  asked  himself.  "  Poor  child ! 
She  is  as  proud  as  all  the  Pells  rolled  into  one — and 
as  unforgiving !  But  the  citadel  of  her  young  heart  is 
well  worth  capturing."  Priscy  had  no  idea  of  her  own 
charm  and  of  how  she  made  her  father's  heart  ache  to 
win  back  the  right  of  nature — his  daughter's  love 
which  he  had  once  cast  away  as  worthless.  He  under- 
stood as  he  sat  there  brooding  over  the  past  after  she 
had  gone,  that  there  is  no  relation  in  life  more  beauti- 
ful than  the  bond  between  father  and  daughter  when 
it  fulfills  its  possibilities.  "How  happy  I  should  be 
with  her  for  my  own  dear  daughter,"  ran  his  thoughts. 
'  The  downhill  of  life  would  be  on  the  southern  slope 
— with  plenty  of  sunshine!  Ah,  well,  perhaps,  some 
day."  Then  there  flashed  into  his  mind  the  old  prov- 
erb :  He  that  will  not  when  he  may,  when  he  would, 
he  shall  have  nay."  But  he  thrust  it  back.  "  Pshaw !  " 
he  cried  impatiently.  "  What  nonsense!  Am  I  in  my 


ANXIETIES  161 

dotage  to  go  quoting  old  saws?  At  any  rate,  the  siege 
shall  last  as  long  as  I  live." 

Mrs.  Longley  and  Priscy  had  talked  quietly  for  per- 
haps half  an  hour,  the  former  trying  to  hide  the 
anxiety  that  would  listen  for  every  sound,  when  brisk 
steps  in  the  hall  approaching  her  door  made  them  both 
sit  silent  in  expectation.  The  knock  was  perfunctory, 
and  permission  to  enter  was,  it  is  feared,  taken  for 
granted,  the  door  was  flung  open  so  suddenly. 

"  That's  the  way  I  used  to  get  into  a  room,"  smiled 
Priscy  to  herself.  "  I  never  expected  to  see  Dorothy 
do  it." 

"  Send  us  out  searching  again,  Mrs.  Longley ! " 
cried  Dorothy.  "  We  are  good  hunters ;  we've  run  a 
genius  to  earth.  Geniuses  don't  grow  on  every  bush — 
only  on  a  rose-bush,  isn't  it,  Rose?"  And  she  half 
led,  half  pushed  into  the  room  a  blushing  girl  who  had 
not  a  word  to  say  for  herself. 

"  I  admire  your  mixed  metaphor — running  to  earth 
and  growing  on  bushes !  "  laughed  Lulu. 

"  Who  cares  for  mixed  metaphor !  Rose  is  a  genius ! 
Colonel  Pell  says  so.  We  found  him  down  on  the 
veranda,  and  we  showed  him  her  painting.  That's 
what  she's  been  doing — the  sly  creature ! — shutting  her 
door  and  keeping  us  all  out  of  the  fun!  And  she 
went  off  to  the  cliff  this  morning;  you  were  getting 
well  and  she  thought  we  might  not  have  many  more 
fine  days  here,  we  should  be  going  away  so  soon.  She 
forgot  all  about  luncheon — and  the  rest  of  us,  I 
suspect.  Then  she  thought  it  must  be  very  late;  but 
that  was  not  until  she  had  finished  her  picture.  You'll 


never  guess  what  it  is;  I'm  so  astonished.  Please 
show  it,  Lulu." 

Here  Lulu  who  had  been  carrying  it  from  the  time 
of  its  showing  to  Colonel  Pell,  displayed  a  portrait  of 
Dorothy  done  in  water  colors.  But  it  was  not  alone 
the  face  and  figure  of  Dorothy;  the  background  was 
the  rock  on  which  the  girl  had  sat  that  day  of  the  pic- 
nic and  in  the  distance  was  a  hint  of  the  view  as  seen 
from  there.  And  Dorothy  was  in  action ;  Nemo  stood 
beside  her  watching  and  ready  to  spring  for  the  bit 
which  the  girl  was  holding  off  as  she  smiled  at  him 
and  was  about  to  fling. 

"Isn't  it  fine?"  asked  Lulu. 

"  Very,"  answered  Mrs.  Longley  earnestly. 

"  It's  not  only  a  portrait,  it's  a  picture !  "  cried  Doro- 
thy. "I  don't  care  about  its  being  mine — I  mean, 
I'm  delighted  at  that,  of  course — but  the  great  thing 
is  that  she  painted  anybody  so.  Colonel  Pell  says 
it  has  plenty  of  faults,  but  more  promises.  What 
made  you  think  of  doing  it  that  way,  Rose  ?  " 

"  I've  been  reading  '  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds'  Lec- 
tures,' "  said  the  girl.  "  I  don't  know  enough  to  make 
Dorothy  historical,  or  any  of  those  Greek  people,  the 
goddesses  and  like  them,  you  know.  But  when  she 
put  herself  so  the  other  day,  I  knew  it  was  the  way  to 
paint  her." 

"  That's  what  Rose  was  doing  the  day  of  the  picnic 
when  she  wouldn't  eat  anything!  "  cried  Lulu.  "  She 
was  so  full  of  genius,  she  had  no  thought  for  cake." 

"  I  was  planning  it  out  that  day,"  answered  Rose. 
"  And  I've  been  painting  in  my  room  when  you  girls 


ANXIETIES  .163 

thought  I  was  so  secret.  Then,  to-day  was  so 
beautiful,  I  wanted  the  lights  and  shadows;  and  be- 
sides, when  I  was  working  here  I  was  always  so  afraid 
somebody  would  come  and  find  me  out.  But  up  there 
it  was  so  quiet,  I  forgot  how  late  it  was,  I  forgot 
about  luncheon.  I  hope  you  weren't  worried  about 
me,  Mrs.  Longley?  It  was  naughty  not  to  tell  you 
where  I  was  going,  if  I  didn't  tell  for  what." 

"  I'm  so  proud  of  you,  Rose !  "  cried  Dorothy,  hap- 
pily, taking  away  Mrs.  Longley's  need  of  reply. 
"  Some  day  you'll  go  off  to  Paris  to  study." 

The  girl's  face  flushed  with  joy;  and  then  the  light 
died  out  of  it. 

"  My  father  will  never  send  me,"  she  said.  "  He 
could  do  it;  he's  not  poor.  But  he  would  say  it  was 
waste  of  money.  My  father  likes  to  keep  his  money," 
she  added. 

"  Who  gave  you  your  lessons,  Rose  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Longley.  After  her  first  glad  cry  of  relief  and  her 
first  exclamation  of  surprise  and  pleasure  in  Rose's 
achievement,  she  had  sat  silent.  She  was  so  thankful 
to  have  been  wrong  in  her  suspicions ;  but  so  ashamed 
that  she  had  doubted  the  girl.  She  would  have  been 
so  much  wiser  to  have  trusted  Rose  Hewes  more  and 
that  chauffeur  less — and  much  kinder  also,  which 
would  have  amounted  to  the  same  thing,  for  kindness 
is  a  large  part  of  wisdom. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  do  tell  mamma  about  that !  "  cried  Grace. 

"  It  was  a  boarder  at  our  house  after  Mrs.  Brooke 
and  Dorothy  went  away  last  summer."  And  Rose 
named  a  well-known  artist.  "She  found  out  how  fond 


164      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

of  pictures  I  was,  and  she  gave  me  lessons  all  the  time 
she  was  with  us,  nearly  two  months.  Then,  when 
she  went  away,  she  gave  me  paper  and  colors  and 
brushes — oh,  ever  so  many.  I  did  a  little  sewing  for 
her,  and  she  pretended  I  had  earned  all  the  things; 
but  I  know  I  didn't  begin  to.  She  said  she  was  glad 
to  help  anybody  who  loved  art  as  she  did,  and  she  said 
I  truly  loved  it,"  added  Rose.  "She  said  I  could 
paint,"  announced  the  girl  modestly.  "  So,  I  keep  on 
trying." 

"  Colonel  Pell  was  sure  you  would  do  great  things 
some  day,"  cried  Dorothy,  her  mind  already  made  up 
to  have  a  hand  in  helping  Rose  to  her  opportunity. 
Dorothy  would  consult  her  staunch  ally  in  all  such 
things  and  her  wise  counsellor  in  right  methods — her 
mother.  But  at  present  she  said  nothing.  There  are 
things  that  one  can  do  better  first  and  talk  about  after- 
ward. 

It  was  time  to  dress  for  dinner.  When  the  girls  had 
sped  away  to  their  rooms,  Grace  waited  to  nestle  be- 
side her  mother  for  a  moment  "How  lovely  you 
always  are,  mamma ! "  she  said.  "  How  sweetly  you 
spoke  to  Rose." 

"  Oh,  no,  Grace,"  answered  Mrs.  Longley,  "  I'm 
very  far  indeed  from  being  lovely.  I — I  don't  think 
I  was  sweet  to  Rose;  I've  not  given  her  the  credit 
she  deserves."  It  would  have  been  a  relief  to  have 
confessed  to  Grace  her  fault  and  her  sorrow  over  her 
injustice.  But  she  could  not;  for  she  would  not  put 
into  her  daughter's  mind  the  suggestion  of  the  thing 
of  which  she  had  so  cruelly  suspected  Rose.  "  Oh, 


ANXIETIES  165 

no,  no,  you  must  not  say  that  of  me,  dear  child,"  she 
entreated. 

"  But  I  shall,"  the  daughter  called  back  over  her 
shoulder  as  she  hurried  away.  "  You're  coming  down 
stairs,  remember,  to-morrow,  or  the  next  day.  How 
happy  we  shall  be ! " 

Then  Mrs.  Longley  began  to  think  about  the  miss- 
ing motor  car  and  chauffeur. 


XVI 

KEEN    WITS 

JIMMY  ran  down  to  the  office  and  began  to  study 

the  directory  of  A .  He  must  get  the  repair  shops. 

Something  might  have  happened  to  the  machine.  If 
so,  he  should  find  it  at  one  of  these.  Manson  must  not 
be  accused  without  presumptive  evidence,  at  least. 
Then  he  took  the  addresses  of  the  public  garages. 
While  he  was  doing  this,  the  telephone  bell  rang  and 
Rex  was  summoned. 

"  I  should  say  it  was  time,"  the  latter  responded  to 
the  unknown  message,  speaking  so  audibly  that,  with- 
out stopping  his  ears,  Jimmy  could  not  help  hearing; 
and,  certainly,  there  was  no  secret  business.  "I'm 
glad  of  it,"  Rex  went  on.  "  What  have  you  been 
doing  all  this  while  ?  "  The  inaudible  reply  was  given 
at  some  length.  "Oh,  that's  it,"  said  Rex.  "You 
must  have  had  a  lark !  We're  very  quiet  up  here ;  we 
need  enlivening.  Good  material  for  fun,  though. 
Yes,  yes,  yes,  I  see.  Then,  it's  to-morrow,  if  you 
don't  break  down.  Well — don't.  Yes,  yes,  good-by." 

"  What  is  Brooke  up  to  ?  Who's  coming  to-mor- 
row?" wondered  his  listener.  "  No  business  of  mine. 
But  if  there  are  more  fellows  after  the  Brooke  pattern, 
we'll  have  some  fun,  sure  enough ! " 

Rex  put  up  the  receiver  and  turned  away.  Then  he 

1 66 


KEEN   WITS  167 

saw  Jimmy.  "  Hello !  Reid,"  he  said  coming  up  to 
him.  "  That's  a  bit  of  a  surprise  of  mine,  you  know." 

"  I  won't  spoil  it,"  answered  Jimmy  smiling  at  him. 

"Not  if  you  know  that,"  said  Rex  returning  the 
smile.  Then  he  looked  at  the  other's  occupation. 
"  How  is  Longley?  "  he  asked,  his  face  grave.  "  That 
was  a  wonderful  thing  he  did — and  I'm  inclined  to 
think  if  the  Lord  hadn't  helped  him  out,  he  would 
never  have  pulled  through  it." 

"That's  what  I  believe,"  said  the  other  quietly. 
"  He's  pretty  well  shaken  up,"  he  added ;  "  but  he 
doesn't  seem  to  be  really  hurt  in  any  way." 

Rex  expressed  his  satisfaction.  Then  he  said : 
"  That  motor-car  business  looks  black  to  me." 

"  The  fellow  got  an  advance  on  his  wages  out  of 
Longley  on  some  pretext;  that  makes  it  look  blacker," 
asserted  Jimmy. 

Rex  whistled.  "Ah,  then  there's  not  a  doubt. 
What's  Longley  going  to  do?" 

"  He's  gone  to  bed  because  he  couldn't  do  anything 
else,  and  I  hope  he  is  going  to  sleep,  that's  the  only 
thing  he  is  fit  for  just  now.  I  promised  to  do  what  I 
could  toward  looking  up  the  car." 

"I've  no  doubt  you  will  do  a  good  deal,  Reid. 
You're  that  kind.  But  you  will  have  to  call  in  the 
police.  May  I  ask  if  you're  on  the  hunt  now?" 

Jimmy  told  him;  and  requested  him  if  he  was  not 
busy,  to  wait  and  listen  to  whatever  information  might 
be  forthcoming. 

It  was  necessary  to  call  up  only  one  repair  shop; 
for  the  one  to  which  Manson  had  previously  carried 


i68      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

the  motor  car  answered  that  he  had  been  there  that 
very  morning  and  had  had  the  machine  thoroughly 
examined.  It  was  right  in  every  particular,  and,  the 
machinist  believed,  ready  for  a  month's  good  wear 
without  anything  more  serious  happening  than  the 
puncturing  of  a  tire. 

A  number  of  garages  were  questioned  before  the 
one  in  which  the  Longley  motor  car  had  been  placed 
was  discovered.  As  nearly  as  could  be  learned,  it  had 
been  taken  out  at  about  the  time  it  was  at  the  shop. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot  one  thing !  "  cried  Jimmy.  "  I  must 
call  up  again.  I  hope  they  have  not  closed." 

No ;  but  they  were  about  to  close  and  were  annoyed 
at  being  detained.  "  Anybody  with  the  young  man 
that  had  the  machine  you  were  speaking  of,  you  want 
to  know  ?  Hold  the  line."  Then  after  a  moment  came 
back  the  answer :  "  Yes,  a  girl  was  with  him." 

"  Ah,  ha !  "  said  Rex  when  Jimmy  reported.  "  Not 
a  doubt  he's  stolen  it.  But  the  girl  will  make  him 
easier  to  trace.  Now,  what  ?  " 

"  The  police,"  answered  the  other.  "  I  don't  believe 
I  could  do  anything  by  going  down  to-night,  or  I 
would  go." 

"Indeed,  you  couldn't.  They'll  send  word  around, 
and  to-morrow  we'll  be  likely  to  get  some  news.  A 
machine  like  that  is  not  so  easily  hidden." 

"  I  know,"  said  Jimmy.  "  But  what  I'm  afraid  of 
is  that  he  will  get  off  a  good  distance  and  then  sell  the 
machine,  and  that  while  we  are  on  the  road  after  it, 
it  may  be  quietly  reposing  in  some  fine  garage  by  the 
way." 


KEEN   WITS  169 

"  You're  a  born  detective,  Reid !  "  cried  the  other. 
"  The  most  likely  thing,  too.  I  should  never  have 
thought  of  it,  though." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  would,  Brooke,  to-morrow,  after  you 
had  thought  it  over  as  I've  been  doing." 

"  Or  perhaps  the  day  after." 

But  Jimmy  held  up  his  finger  for  silence.  They 
were  speaking  to  him  from  the  police  station.  The  boy 
told  his  story  concisely,  and  answered  clearly  the 
questions  put  to  him.  After  a  few  minutes  he  thanked 
the  man  at  the  other  end  of  the  line,  hung  up  the 
receiver,  and  turned  to  Rex. 

"  They'll  send  on  word  ahead  and  keep  a  sharp  look- 
out, they  say,"  he  announced.  "  It's  lucky  the  car 
has  a  number  likely  to  make  everybody  who  sees  it 
remember  it — four  *  threes '  in  a  row,  you  recollect. 
We  shall  hear  in  the  morning,  if  they  have  any 
news." 

The  following  morning  Ned  coming  down  to  break- 
fast, found  at  his  plate  a  note  from  Jimmy : 

"Dear  old  Fellow,"  it  ran,  "I'm  off  to  A ,  on 

the  hunt  after  a  man  and  a  machine.  I  didn't  speak 
to  you,  for  I  thought  you  were  asleep  and  hope  you 
will  be  all  right.  I'm  going  to  hobnob  with  the  police ; 
so  don't  worry  about  me,  even  if  I  don't  come  home 
early.  Yours,  J.  R. " 

Rex  had  wanted*  very  much  to  take  Jimmy  to  A • 

in  his  car  and  help  him  in  the  search  for  Manson  and 


i7o      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

the  machine.  But  Jimmy  had  represented  to  him  that, 
much  as  he  also  wanted  it,  it  would  leave  Ned  who 
might  not  be  fit  for  much  the  whole  day,  as  the  only 
man  to  call  upon  in  case  Mrs.  Longley,  or  the  girls, 
should  need  anything.  "  And  then,  your  friends  are 
coming,"  he  added,  smiling. 

"That's  not  the  least  matter;  they  can  take  care  of 
themselves  for  a  few  hours.  But  the  other  consider- 
ation counts,  Reid.  I  won't  go  with  you." 

So,  he  only  came  down  early  and  breakfasted  with 
Jimmy  and  saw  him  off.  "Good  luck  to  you,"  he 
called.  "  And  I  think  you'll  have  it." 

Reid  sped  his  utmost  and  reached  the  city  in  good 
season. 

No  news  yet  at  the  police  station ! 

At  both  the  garage  and  the  repair  shop  he  supple- 
mented by  personal  inquiries  his  previous  questions 
by  telephone.  At  the  former  place  he  learned  some- 
thing new.  But  at  the  other,  by  persistence  and  a 
bill  passed  quietly  into  the  hand  of  the  man  who  had 
gone  to  the  sidewalk  and  talked  with  Manson,  he 
gained  an  important  bit  of  information.  For  the  man 
had  overheard  Manson  say  to  the  girl  as  he  got  into 
the  car  again :  "  Now,  we'll  go  an'  be  spliced."  "  That's 
so,"  the  girl  had  answered,  giggling.  And  then  they 
were  off. 

"  You  didn't  hear  him  say  where  they  were  going  ?  " 
demanded  Jimmy  anxiously. 

The  other  sneeered.  "  No!  He  didn't  give  himself 
away  to  that  extent,"  he  retorted.  "  I  should  think 
he'd  done  it  enough  without.  You'll  have  to  find  that 


KEEN   WITS  171 

out  for  yourself,"  he  went  on  less  gruffly  as  his  grasp 
tightened  on  the  bill  in  his  hand;  and  he  indicated  to 
Jimmy  the  direction  that  the  car  had  taken  on  leaving 
the  shop. 

An  older  person  than  the  young  inquirer,  or  a  boy 
less  in  earnest  would  have  quailed  before  the  stupen- 
dous task  of  discovering  what  minister — if  any — had 
married  Manson  and  the  girl?  When  Ned  asked  him 
afterward  why  he  had  done  it,  Jimmy  answered  that 
if  Manson  had  married  her,  she  would  still  be  with 
him  and  they  could  be  more  easily  traced  than  if  he 
had  only  taken  her  out  for  a  spin  and  brought  her 
home  at  night.  In  that  case,  he  would  have  been 

somewhere  in  A in  the  evening,  and  he  would  not 

be  so  far  away  by  the  next  morning.  But  he  had  not 
spent  the  night  in  the  city ;  or  the  car  would  have  been 
traced. 

So,  with  the  directory  and  the  telephone  Jimmy  set 
to  work.  The  ministers  who  the  day  previous  had 
married  nobody  required  no  interviewing  and  the  boy 
dropped  them  with  a  sigh  of  relief  and  an  apology  for 
having  given  them  the  trouble  of  answering  his  call. 
But  he  began  to  think  that  those  who  had  performed 
the  marriage  ceremony  the  preceding  day  were  legion. 
Five  of  these  answered  his  questions  politely  and 
satisfied  him  that  they  had  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
chauffeur  whom  he  was  in  search  of.  The  sixth  was 
inquisitive  in  his  turn,  and  when  Jimmy  felt  that  he 
had  told  enough  of  his  story  to  bring  him  the  infor- 
mation he  wanted,  the  other  growled  out:  "  Why  do 
you  bother  a  busy  man  like  me  with  this  stuff?  Go  to 


172      DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

the  city  derk.  Ask  him  to  took  op  the  records;  it's 
his  business." 

"*  Oh,  thank  you  for  the  suggestion ! "  cried  Jimmy 
so  warmly  that  the  growling  voice  moderated. 

"Don't  want  to  be  disobliging,"  it  said;  "bat  this 
is  the  tenth  time  I've  been  called  up  from  my  acimu», 
and  Fm  afraid  my  people  will  find  it  oat.  Yes,  yes, 
you're  welcome.  Good-morning." 

Jimmy  flashed  up  the  receiver  and  darted  off. 
"What  a  dunderhead  you  are,  Reid!"  he  muttered 
as  he  whirled  along  toward  the  fountainhead  of  in- 
formation. "Wouldn't  people  hoot  at  your  methods? 
Xever  mind:  IT1  get  there!" 

"  Yes ;  George  Manson  and  Delia  Watson  were  mar- 
ried the  day  before  at  eleven  o'clock." 

Then  Jimmy  rode  to  the  minister's  house ;  the  latter 
would  give  him  more  points  face  to  face  than  when 
questioned  through  a  tube.  But  the  clergyman  had 
started  that  morning  on  his  vacation— one  reason  for 
his  promptness  in  sending  in  his  record. 

Half  an  hour  later  Jimmy  and  a  policeman  in  plain 
clothes  were  being  driven  in  a  motor  car  along  the 
road  which  inquiry  had  shown  that  Manson  had  taken 
the  previous  day.  How  long  he  had  kept  it  they  would 
have  to  learn  as  they  went  on. 

"Don't  let  on  to  that  feller  what  we're  after,"  the 
policeman  had  whispered  to  Jimmy  as  the  hired  auto- 
mobile and  chauffeur  came  up.  "Manson  was  born 
here;  we  don't  know  his  friends.  If  that  choffef  knows 
our  biz,  he  may  give  him  the  tip." 

They  bowled  along  for  hoars,  stopping  every  now 


KEEN  WITS  173 

and  then  to  make  inquiries,  and  finding' that  they  were 
stifl  on  die  right  track.  "There's  hick  in  odd  num- 
bers," muttered  Jimmy's  companion ; "  an*  three's  good 
in  odds,  so  I've  heard;  an*  as  for  four  of  them  threes, 
why,  I  take  it,  it's  some  like  a  four-leaved  clover.  I 
used  to  find  lots  of  'em  when  I  was  a  little  shaver." 

"  And  did  they  bring  yon  lock?"  questioned  Jimmy, 
willing  to  beguile  the  time. 

A  broad  smile  irradiated  the  other's  face.  "  Well, 
new,  I  ain't  complainm'/*  he  said.  "  A  good  wife  an* 
six  fine  children — if  I  sez  it  that  shouldn't — an'  some- 
thin'  to  pot  down  their  throats  an'  on  their  backs — 
yes,  I  reckon  the  four-leaved  clovers,  or  somethin'  else, 
did  bring' me  rack." 

"  What  are  you  after?"  asked  the  chauffeur  at  last, 
turning  about  to  die  two  behind  him. 

"Well  tell  you  when  we  git  it! "  retorted  the  pofice- 
man,  giving  Jimmy  a  look. 

"Oh,  I  only  thought,''  said  the  other  with  an  in- 
jured air,  "if  yon  was  after  anything;  or  anybody, 
I  might  help  you  look,  an*  be  accommodatin' — that's 
aH."  And  he  turned  back  again  with  a  scowl.  "If 
it's  only  fun  you're  after,  go  ahead.*' 

The  policeman  nudged  Jimmy.  But  the  latter 
answered  the  chauffeur  courteously:  "Thank  yon; 
you  are  very  kind.  If  there  is  anything-  you  can  do 
to  help  out,  we  shall  be  glad  to  ask  yon.  But  at  pres- 
ent there  is  nothing;  except  to  make  the  best  time  the 
law  allows." 

The  motor  car  was  a  good  one.  But  it  would  hare 
been  long  in  overtaking  that  which  Hanson  drove 


174      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

without  scruple  as  to  speed,  had  it  not  been  for  two 
delays.  Neither  was  a  punctured  tire,  nor  any  accident 
to  the  car — it  was  Delia  to  whom  one  delay  was  due. 
On  the  previous  day  they  had  gone  not  far  from  a 
hundred  miles,  in  spite  of  the  girl's  having  insisted 
upon  waiting  to  announce  her  marriage  to  two  of  her 

friends  in  A ,  and  had  reached  a  respectable  hotel 

in  another  city,  taken  their  evening  meal  and  spent 
the  night.  Manson  had  wanted  an  early  start  the  next 
morning.  But  Delia  had  declared  that  she  had  always 
had  to  get  up  early,  that  she  hated  it,  and  was  going 
to  take  her  time  on  her  wedding  trip.  Manson  growled, 
and  at  last  succeeded  in  effecting  a  compromise  satis- 
factory to  neither.  They  were  two  hours  too  late, 
he  declared,  when  the  car  stood  throbbing  at  the 
door. 

But  this  was  only  a  beginning  of  troubles.  Delia 
had  need  of  a  new  traveling  suit,  she  asserted.  They 
would  just  ride  slowly  through  the  shopping  district 
of  the  city,  and,  as  they  passed,  she  could  glance  into 
the  windows  and  see  if  there  was  anything  she  liked ; 
it  would  not  take  five  minutes  more,  certainly,  not 
over  ten;  and  what  did  that  count?  She  saw,  how- 
ever, so  many  suits  which  she  did  not  want  to  pass 
by  without  closer  look  and  some  that  she  spent  much 
time  in  debating  whether  she  would  or  would  not 
take,  that  by  the  time  she  had  made  her  selection  three 
hours  had  gone  by,  and  they  went  to  a  restaurant  for 
luncheon  before  starting.  When  fairly  off,  however, 
they  made  good  time*  so  good  that  Manson  felt  quite 
safe  in  drawing  up  for  the  night  af  a  small  hotel  well 


KEEN   WITS  175 

on  to  seventy  miles  from  their  last  stopping  place. 
The  town  was  off  the  main  artery  of  travel  and  he 
felt  secure.  He  reflected  also  that,  anyway,  there 
were  only  boys  to  track  him.  What  could  they 
do? 

In  the  morning  there  came  to  him  an  opportunity 
which  he  believed  it  wise  not  to  neglect — a  chance  to 
sell  the  motor  car.  He  was  too  shrewd  to  pretend 
that  a  car  like  that  was  his  own;  he  announced  him- 
self as  the  chauffeur  of  a  gentleman  who  had  sud- 
denly lost  his  money  and  had  sent  him  around  the 
country  to  sell  the  automobile  on  commission.  The 
would-be  purchaser  examined  the  machine  with 
care,  and  the  more  he  examined,  the  more  he  ad- 
mired it. 

"  There's  one  thing  about  it  I  especially  like,"  he 
said,  as  they  stood  together  beside  it,  "  that's  the  num- 
ber. It  would  be  hard  to  steal  and  run  off  with  that 
number — '  three,  three,  three,  three ' — it's  a  security 
in  itself." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  it  is,  sir,"  returned  the  chauffeur, 
keeping  the  tremble  out  of  his  voice  and  giving  Delia 
a  look  which  checked  her  giggle. 

There  was  a  long  discussion  over  the  prize,  which 
made  Manson  sure  that  the  gentleman  thought  seri- 
ously of  buying.  When  this  had  been  finally  settled, 
the  purchaser  said  that  he  would  go  into  the  hotel  and 
telephone  to  his  wife  to  come  to  meet  him  by  an  earlier 
train  than  they  had  arranged,  if  she  could.  At  any 
rate,  he  would  do  nothing  until  she  had  seen  the  ma- 
chine; but  he  felt  confident  that  she  would  like  it  as 


176      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

much  as  he  did.  If  she  did,  would  Manson  take  the 
car  home  for  him  ? 

Then  the  chauffeur  made  a  bold  stroke.  He  would 
be  out  of  a  place  when  the  motor  car  was  sold,  he 
said.  If  the  purchaser  had  no  one  else  in  view,  why 
could  he  not  take  him  for  chauffeur,  provided  there 
was  a  cottage  on  his  place,  or  near,  where  he  could 
live  with  his  wife  ?  They  had  been  married  only  two 
days ;  this  was  their  wedding  trip. 

Then  the  gentleman  turned  himself  about  and 
looked  smilingly  at  Delia  who,  foreseeing  many  fu- 
ture spins  in  this  same  car,  smiled  and  simpered.  "  Ah, 
indeed ! "  he  answered.  "  Perhaps  we  can  make  a 
place  for  her  in  the  house,  if  she  would  like  ?  One  of 
our  maids  is  going  away.  But  everything  depends 
upon  my  wife." 

No,  the  lady  could  not  come  before  the  time  orig- 
inally set,  which  was  directly  after  luncheon. 

"Thus  far,  luck  has  been  good  to  us;  we'll  have 
to  trust  to  it  a  little  further,"  Manson  said  to  Delia 
as  they  waited.  "  If  they  come  after  the  car,  he'll  have 
to  stand  it;  I'll  clear  out  and  give  you  the  tip  where 
to  follow.  But  it  will  be  all  right." 

He  took  the  precaution,  however,  to  place  the  car 
with  its  number  backed  away  from  the  road. 

The  previous  evening  Jimmy  and  his  companions, 
still  on  the  track  of  Manson,  spent  the  night  at  the 
same  hotel  that  he  had  done  twenty-four  hours  earlier. 

"I  know  a  cop  in  this  city,"  said  the  policeman; 
"and  I'll  find  out  if  he  has  seen  anything  of  four 
'threes'?  He  returned,  saying  that  the  motor  car 


KEEN   WITS  177 

had  gone  up  the  main  street  about  one  o'clock  that 
day.  "  They're  not  more  than  half  a  day  ahead,  un- 
less they  ran  a  part  of  the  night,  and  I  don't  believe 
they  had  sense  enough,"  he  announced.  Jimmy,  mean- 
while, had  telephoned  to  Ned  that  all  was  well  thus 
far;  they  had  not  come  to  the  end  yet. 

They  were  off  early  the  next  morning,  following 
up  inquiries  as  to  the  car  in  front  of  them;  indeed, 
in  the  opinion  of  tl\e  policeman,  they  made  unneces- 
sary inquiries.  "Who's  bossing  this  business?"  he 
asked  once  with  a  touch  of  brusqueness. 

"  I  am,"  returned  Jimmy  with  a  prompt  decision 
that  settled  the  matter. 

Manson  thought  himself  acute  to  have  turned  off 
the  main  line  of  travel.  But  where  motor  cars  were 
few,  people  stared  at  them  and  remembered  them. 
Manson  was  cleaning  the  car,  and  Delia  sitting  beside 
him  was  picturing  their  successful  venture  and  what 
they  would  do  with  the  money  from  the  sale,  when 
Jimmy  and  his  companions  drove  up. 

Manson,  pale  and  terrified,  yet  stood  his  ground. 
"Good-morning,"  he  said  with  effort.  "We've  had 
a  fine  spin,  my  wife  and  me.  Allow  me  to  introduce 
Mrs.  Manson,  Mr.  Reid."  Jimmy  bowed  and  turned 
back  to  the  speaker.  "  We've  had  a  delightful  wed- 
ding trip,"  Manson  went  on — "  the  only  way  we  could 
get  one.  I  hope  we  haven't  inconvenienced  Mr.  Long- 
ley?  We're  just  going  back  to  tell  him  about  it  and 
ask  him  to  forgive  us  for  borrowing  the  auto  with- 
out leave.  I  wanted  my  little  girl  to  have  a  little 
fun,  you  know.  One  day  he'll  understand  how  it 


178      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

seems  to  do  the  same  thing,  you  see."  He  added  with 
a  nervous  laugh:  "  Just  a  little  joy  ride,  you  see." 

Jimmy  stood  a  moment  irresolute.  He  did  not  be- 
lieve Manson.  Yet  he  had  nothing  to  prove  that  the 
fellow  was  not  speaking  the  truth,  and  he  really  wished 
that  he  were.  He  made  no  answer. 

"  The  luggage  is  all  in,  Delia  ?  "  questioned  Man- 
son.  She  nodded  assent;  she  was  too  frightened  to 
speak;  she  did  not  know  who  these  strangers  were, 
but  she  was  afraid  of  them  because  she  perceived  that 
George  was.  "  We  will  follow  you,  or  go  on  ahead, 
just  as  you  prefer,"  added  Manson,  gaining  courage 
with  his  apparent  immunity.  Who  could  say  that  he 
had  intended  anything  more  than  he  had  confessed? 
"  Come,  Delia,"  he  said,  holding  out  his  hand  to  her 
to  help  her  in.  "We've  had  our  fun;  we'll  go  back 
now." 

"  No ;  not  that  way "  began  Jimmy. 

But  at  the  moment  a  voice  behind  interrupted. 
"  Newman,"  it  said,  "  the  more  I  think  of  it,  the  more 
sure  I  feel  that  my  wife  will  want  me  to  buy  that  ma- 
chine of  you  at  the  price  we  have  agreed  upon.  I 
have  the  option,  you  know,  until  she  comes  up.  That's 
what  you  said,  you  remember." 

The  would-be  purchaser  had  scented  possible  rivals 
and  had  come  out  to  secure  himself. 

"  Was  this  machine  offered  you  for  sale,  may  I 
ask,  sir?"  inquired  Jimmy  in  his  suavest  tones. 

"  Indeed,  it  was,  sir,"  answered  the  gentleman  with 
decision ;  "  and  the  bargain  is  made,  and  only  waiting 
the  approval  of  my  wife." 


KEEN   WITS  179 

"  I'm  sorry  to  disappoint  you ;  but  it's  a  stolen  ma- 
chine," returned  the  boy.  "  And " 

"  No,  yer  don't !  Stop  that  trick ! "  cried  the  police- 
man, suddenly  springing  forward  and  seizing  Manson, 
who  had  leaped  into  the  car  and  was  reaching  out 
his  hand  to  the  lever. 


XVII 

HOW    REX    PUT    IT 

"  JIMMY  is  off  after  Manson  and  the  car,"  said  Ned 
at  breakfast  the  morning  after  the  rescue  of  Bab,  and 
he  read  aloud  the  note  at  his  plate.  He  was  pale  and 
languid,  but  he  declared  himself  "  all  right."  After 
a  moment's  silence,  he  said :  "  I  ought  to  have  gone 
with  him.  I  intended  to  go.  He  has  taken  all  my 
work  upon  his  own  shoulders — just  like  Reid.  I'll 
follow  him  though — oh,  I  forgot  that  my  cycle  is 
useless.  But  I  can  get  a  motor  car  here." 

"  Hold  off,  Longley,  until  you  can  get  into  touch 
by  telephone,"  said  Rex,  "  or  you'll  be  all  day  hunt- 
ing Reid  instead  of  the  chauffeur. 

"Yes,  that's  true,"  said  Ned.  But  he  still  looked 
restless  and  troubled. 

The  others,  however,  were  in  fine  humor.  The 
motor  car  was  being  chased,  and  would  be  recovered 
in  some  way,  no  doubt,  and,  what  was  far  more  im- 
portant, the  hero  of  yesterday  had  received  no  in- 
juries, and  if  not  yet  quite  himself  again,  was  in  a 
fair  way  to  become  so.  Talks  and  walks,  and  perhaps 
a  turn  in  Rex's  car  were  all  that  they  could  plan  for 
the  day;  nobody  wanted  to  be  far  from  the  telephone 
and  possible  news  from  Jimmy.  They  had,  though, 
forgotten  for  the  moment  one  fruitful  source  of  en- 

180 


HOW   REX    PUT   IT  181 

tertainment.  They  were  reminded  of  it  as  they  sat 
at  breakfast  by  a  laughing  baby  voice  at  the  door,  and 
there,  coming  down  the  long  room,  was  Miss  Knowles 
with  Bab  in  her  arms  cooing  and  talking  in  baby 
fashion. 

"  Mamma  says  she  must  be  nearly  two  years  old," 
said  Grace,  watching  the  child  as  Miss  Knowles  took 
her  place  with  it  in  her  lap.  Bab  belonged  at  the 
children's  table.  But  as  she  had  no  nurse  and  was  a 
lost  baby  and  "  a  transient,"  the  rules  had  been  relaxed 
in  her  case. 

"Good-morning,  baby!"  cried  a  chorus  of  voices. 

"  Hush !  I'm  afraid  you'll  frighten  her,"  said  Miss 
Knowles. 

"  Dah !  dah ! "  returned  Bab,  looking  about  her  and 
stretching  out  a  hand  toward  Miss  Knowles'  knife 
which  lay  conveniently  near. 

"  No,  no,  darling,"  said  the  latter,  removing  it  with 
alacrity.  "  No,  no ;  it  will  hurt  baby." 

"Dah!  dah!"  answered  Bab,  and  seized  her  nap- 
kin, hurling  it  to  the  floor  by  an  energetic  thrust  of 
the  tiny  fist. 

"Why,  Dah-dah,  you've  had  your  breakfast;  you 
must  let  me  have  mine." 

"The  plate  will  go  next!"  cried  Rex,  who,  as  has 
been  said,  had  breakfasted  with  Jimmy  and  was  now 
sitting  with  the  rest  "for  company."  He  added: 
"Let  me  take  her,  Miss  Knowles,  and  give  you  a 
chance  to  eat  something."  And  before  the  other  could 
frame  refusal  or  remonstrance,  he  had  caught  up  the 
child  from  her  lap.  "  I'm  used  to  it,"  he  said.  "  I've 


182      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

served  an  apprenticeship  with  our  children.  Hi !  Dah- 
dah!  This  is  your  uncle.  Don't  you  know  your 
uncle  ?  "  And  he  danced  around  the  table  with  the 
baby  crowing  on  his  shoulder. 

"Unc!  unc!  "cried  Bab. 

"  I  believe  you've  hit  it,  Brooke ! "  cried  Ned.  "  She 
has  an  uncle,  evidently." 

"  And  you  must  look  just  like  him ! "  exclaimed 
Priscy.  At  which  speech  they  all  laughed. 

"Unc  what,  Dah-dah?"  asked  Ned.  "If  only 
she  would  give  us  a  hint  of  the  other  name,"  he 
said. 

"  Baby,  what's  your  name  ?  "  questioned  Rex,  hold- 
ing her  high  in  air  with  strong  arms  and  gazing  up 
into  the  little  face  looking  down  at  him  in  perfect 
confidence. 

"  Dah !  dah !  "  repeated  the  child. 

"Isn't  she  a  little  beauty?"  he  said,  marching 
around  the  table  with  her  on  his  shoulder.  "  Here, 
Doro,  look  at  her.  If  I'm  her  uncle,  you  must  be  her 
aunt.  Speak  to  your  Aunt  Doro,  Dah-dah."  He 
held  her  down  and  the  little  fist  grabbed  Dorothy's 
hair. 

"O — h!"  said  the  girl  laughingly  disentangling 
herself  and  kissing  the  dimpled,  childish  fist. 

"  Mamma !  mamma ! "  cried  Bab.  "  I  wants 
mamma ! " 

"  Your  mamma  by  adoption  is  eating  breakfast  and 
can't  be  disturbed ;  and  the  other  mamma  is — we  don't 
quite  know  at  present  where  she  is,  probably  weep- 
ing for  Dah-dah." 


HOW   REX    PUT   IT  183 

"Yes,  and  it's  cruel!"  protested  Miss  Knowles, 
setting  down  her  coffee  cup  hastily.  "That  poor 
woman  must  be  found  and  told." 

"  Longley,"  said  Rex,  "  there's  not  a  word  of  a  lost 

baby  in  any  of  the  morning  papers  from  A ,  and 

there  was  nothing  in  last  evening's  papers.  Dah-dah 
is  the  prisoner,  not  exactly  of  your  sword  and  lance, 
but  of  your  prowess,  certainly;  and  to  you,  as  knight- 
errant,  belongs  the  disposition  of  her.  What  shall  be 
done?  Shall  we  advertise  her?" 

"  Yes,  indeed ! "  cried  Ned.  "  I  wish  you  would 
at  once." 

"//  Well!  I  have  got  myself  into  business!  I 
was  suggesting  to  authors  and  dramatists,  and  so 
forth,  the  resources  of  the  press.  I  never  wrote  an 
advertisement  in  my  life  but  the  one  that  I  gave  Reid 
this  morning  as  a  suggestion  merely.  I  don't  think 
he  will  use  it." 

"Oh,  what  was  it?"  asked  Lulu,  looking  up  with 
interest. 

Rex  laughed.  "  A  great  work  of  genius.  I  gave 
the  make  and  number  of  the  car  and  added :  *  Stolen ! 
Reward  for  information  leading  to  its  recovery.  Ad- 
dress :  E.  L.' ;  and  then  this  hotel." 

"  I  hope  Jimmy  will  use  it,"  said  Ned.  "  Just  go 
ahead  now,  please,  Brooke,  and  describe  Dah-dah  as 
graphically." 

"  Oh,  no !  no !  you  mustn't  describe  her.  That's  not 
the  way  at  all ! "  cried  Miss  Knowles.  "  Don't  you 
see,  anybody  can  get  hold  of  her  then;  she'll  be  kid- 
napped, as  Mrs.  Longley  suggested." 


184      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"Mamma  only  said  it  might  have  been  so  if  we 
had  gone  about  the  city  offering  her  anywhere," 
amended  Grace.  "  She  wasn't  speaking  of  advertis- 
ing." 

"  But  I  am,"  said  Miss  Knowles.  "  She  must  be 
advertised,  of  course.  But  the  advertisement  must 
be  worded  with  great  care." 

"  You're  the  one  to  do  it,  Miss  Knowles,"  asserted 
the  young  man.  "You  know  how  a  hundred  times 
better  than  I  do." 

"If  I  take  care  of  Bab,  I  do  my  full  part,"  re- 
turned that  lady.  "I  don't  know  anything  about  ad- 
vertisements." 

"  Yes,  she  does  more  than  she's  asked  to  do,"  mur- 
mured Dorothy  to  Rose,  who  returned  her  an  appre- 
ciative smile. 

"  Then,  we'll  settle  it  in  family  conclave,"  said  Rex. 
"  *  Lost,  strayed  or  stolen,  a  charming  baby,  age  about 
two  years,  who  calls  herself  "  Dah-dah  " ;  wears  white 
with  blue  ribbons ' ' 

"  I  put  on  the  blue  ribbons  this  morning,"  inter- 
rupted Miss  Knowles.  "  Her  pink  bows  were  all 
mussed  and  soiled." 

"  Not  strange !  "  commented  Ned.  "  I  suppose  my 
hands  did  it  when  I  grabbed  her." 

"It's  nice  to  have  fun;  but  there  are  times  when 
one  should  be  serious,"  retorted  the  lady  severely. 

The  young  people  glanced  at  one  another  and 
pulled  down  their  faces ;  the  only  trouble  was  the  dif- 
ficulty of  their  staying  put. 

"  Well,  we'll  blue  pencil  the  blue  ribbons,"  went  on 


HOW   REX    PUT   IT  185 

Rex.  "The  white  is  all  right,  is  it  not?  And  the 
blue  comes  in  the  eyes.  Height,  weight — we  can  find 
out  those — golden  hair,  and  skin  white  as  milk,  like 
all  the  fairy  princesses ;  we  must  be  accurate,  or  how 
is  her  mamma  to  recognize  her?" 

"  No !  No !  you  mustn't  tell  those  things.  Anybody 
can  claim  her  then.  You  must  tell  only  as  little  as 
possible,  enough  to  give  a  clue  to  the  one  on  the 
watch,  don't  you  see  ?  "  The  speaker  was  vehement, 
and  held  out  her  hands  for  Bab. 

But  Rex  could  not  have  seen  her;  for  he  turned 
and  dropped  the  child  into  Lulu's  lap.  Then,  sitting 
down,  he  propped  his  head  on  his  hands,  the  picture 
of  despair.  "  Upon  my  word,"  he  said,  "  it's  worse 
to  write  an  advertisement  about  a  baby  than  to  write 
a  play — now,  isn't  it,  Longley?  I  never  saw  Doro 
in  such  a  fix.  Go  away  and  leave  me,  good  people 
all ;  see  if  the  spirit  will  move  in  solitude." 

"If  you  want  solitude,  you'll  have  to  go  seek  it," 
laughed  Lulu.  "  In  another  minute  they'll  come  here 
to  clear  the  table." 

Rex  lifted  his  bowed  head  a  few  inches  and  looked 
at  her. 

"  I  agree  with  the  man  who  remarked  that  he  liked 
to  have  somebody  to  whom  to  say  that  solitude  hath 
charms,"  he  retorted.  "  Mayn't  I  say  it  to  you,  Miss 
Bromley?" 

"Another  time,  perhaps,"  she  answered  joining 
in  the  general  laugh.  "Now  Dorothy  and  I  have 
an  errand  to  do." 

"Can't  I  help? "  he  asked.    "  You  and  Doro  could 


i86      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

do  the  talking  and  I  could  walk  silently  along  by  your 
side  meditating  on  my  baby  advertisement." 

"  Oh,  could  you,  Rex ! "  cried  his  sister.  And  the 
others  echoed  her  laugh. 

"  We're  going  to  see  some  people  not  far  from  here 
whom  we've  heard  of,"  explained  Lulu.  "  I'm  afraid 
that  three  might  embarrass  them.  And  then,  it  will 
take  us  some  time." 

"  In  that  case  I  couldn't  go — great  regrets !  /  have 
something  to  do  also.  Oh,  it's  not  the  literary  work." 

When  Rex  found  Ned  by  himself,  he  said  to  him: 
"  Longley,  I  wanted  very  much  to  be  in  the  hunt  for 
the  chauffeur,  to  help  out  all  I  could.  But  Reid 
wouldn't  let  me  take  him  down  to  A this  morn- 
ing." And  he  repeated  Jimmy's  admonition.  "You 
see,"  he  said,  "  we  would  have  been  certain  to  be  gone 
the  whole  day  and  perhaps  into  the  night;  and  it 
would  never  have  done.  Nobody  knew  how  you'd 
turn  up  this  morning.  If  you  will  take  my  advice.  I 
would  wait  until  you  hear  from  Reid;  you  will 
delay  him  if  he  has  to  wait  your  getting  there; 
or  if  he  goes  on  without  you,  perhaps  he'd  like  to  put 
it  through,  since  he  has  begun." 

"Thank  you,  Brooke,"  answered  the  other.  "It's 
only  fair  that  he  should;  I  wouldn't  spoil  his 
game." 

"  You  needn't  tell  me  that,  Longley.  I'd  go  and  try 
to  look  up  Dah-dah's  cruel  relatives  but  for  the  same 
reason.  But  there's  your  cycle  to  be  looked  after.  I 
can  do  that.  Let  me  give  you  a  run  on  the  train,  it's 
only  six  miles  off,  and  you  can  ship  your  machine  to 


HOW   REX    PUT   IT  187 

the  repair  shop  by  express.  You'll  save  time  on  send- 
ing it  from  here." 

Ned  gladly  accepted  the  offer.  As  they  drove  up 
to  the  hotel  on  their  return,  they  saw  Colonel  Pell  on 
the  veranda  with  Dorothy  and  Lulu,  who  had  just 
come  in  from  their  walk. 

"  Do  come  and  try  that  experiment  about  solitude," 
begged  Rex  of  the  latter.  "  I'll  bring  you  back  in  half 
an  hour — by  my  watch." 

"  Is  your  watch  slow  ?  "  asked  the  girl,  smiling  up 
at  him  teasingly,  and  yet  hesitating. 

"  No — correct  time.    Do  come." 

And  Lulu  went. 

Colonel  Pell  had  turned  to  Ned  and  spoken  to 
him  a  few  tactful  words  of  appreciation  of  his  deed 
of  daring. 

"  Such  things  come  to  be  done  sometimes,"  answered 
the  other;  "and  then  the  way  opens  up." 

Colonel  Pell  began  to  question  him  about  Manson 
and  the  missing  motor  car.  He  would  be  only  too 
glad  if  he  could  do  the  least  thing  to  help,  he  said; 
and  he  remarked  that  he  had  always  thought  the 
chauffeur  had  a  sly  look.  By  this  time  Ned  finding 
himself  included,  had  taken  a  seat  beside  Dorothy 
and  the  colonel,  and  the  conversation  from  the  feats 
and  freaks  of  motor  cars  and  their  drivers  had  wan- 
dered to  other  subjects  interesting  to  all  three,  when 
sailing  along  the  veranda  with  stately  grace  came 
Mrs.  Pell. 

After  greeting  the  young  people,  she  said  to  her 
husband :  "  My  dear,  we  are  having  a  warm  dispute 


188      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

in  the  parlor  as  to  the  merits  of  monoplanes  and  bi- 
planes. Mr.  Harris  and  Dr.  Kendrick  are  getting  a 
little  too  hot  over  it.  They  want  you  as  umpire.  I've 
been  looking  for  you  everywhere.  I  thought  you 
were  working." 

"I  have  been,"  returned  Colonel  Pell.  "Then  I 
strolled  out  for  a  rest,  and  I'm  enjoying  it  very  much. 
I  can't  be  umpire,  Charlotte,  over  a  matter  that  no 
rules  have  yet  been  laid  down  on.  Do  excuse  me, 
please.  Say  I  don't  know.  It's  just  hot  enough  to 
fly  if  one  had  wings  ready  made;  but  it's  too  warm 
to  go  into  the  business  of  making  them.  Say  I  don't 
know,"  he  repeated. 

Mrs.  Pell  was  too  well-bred  to  utter  the  wrath  that 
flashed  in  her  eyes.  "  Ha !  ha !  you  don't  know !  "  she 
echoed,  and  her  laugh  had  a  challenge  in  it.  "  His 
wife  is  quite  well  aware  that,  in  spite  of  his  modesty, 
Colonel  Pell  is  not  a  man  who  does  not  know — things 
that  he  is  expected  to  know." 

The  colonel  rose.  "Oh,  well,"  he  said,  "neither  I 
nor  anybody  else  can  be  sure  of  a  point  not  yet  estab- 
lished. I  have  my  opinion,  certainly;  but  the  matter 
has  not  yet  arrived  at  a  stage  where  even  an  expert 
may  be  considered  infallible.  But  lead  on,  Char- 
lotte ;  I'll  do  my  best."  And  with  a  word  to  the  others, 
he  strolled  along  in  the  wake  of  his  wife  who  having 
won  her  point,  graciously  apologized  for  taking  Colo- 
nel Pell  from  the  charming  young  people  whose  society 
she  enjoyed  as  thoroughly  as  he  did. 

Dorothy  looked  after  them.  Then  she  turned  to 
Ned.  "  He  smothered  his  sigh  well,  but  I  heard  it," 


HOW    REX    PUT    IT  189 

she  said.  "  I  hope  he  will  get  Priscy  some  day,  poor 
man!" 

Ned  did  not  answer.  He  was  watching  her,  and 
thinking  of  her  devotion  to  her  friend.  Yet  behind  his 
thought  of  her  was  another  thought  which  he  was 
struggling  to  express  to  her.  At  last,  he  said : 

"  I  wish  people  wouldn't  speak  to  me  about — about 
yesterday  as  Colonel  Pell  did  just  now.  A  great 
force  swept  into  me  like  an  electric  current  and  carried 
me  through  it.  It  was  not  I;  it  was  God — I  know 
it." 

"  So  do  I,"  returned  Dorothy  softly. 

"  But  to  keep  saying  that — it  sounds  like  cant,"  he 
said. 

"  I  think  many  people  feel  as  you  do  about  it," 
answered  the  girl.  "But  then,  we  have  to  welcome 
God's  messengers  that  do  His  service — as  you  did 
then.  It  was  wonderful.  Now  that  you  are  safe,  I'm 
so  glad  that  you  were  chosen."  As  she  spoke  her 
earnest  eyes  as  they  met  his  gravely  carried  that  assur- 
ance of  confidence  in  him  which  made  him  glad. 

After  a  moment  he  said :  "  I'm  glad  you  under- 
stand." 

"  I  do,"  she  answered  him. 

For  a  few  moments  they  were  silent,  both  looking 
at  the  beautiful  sweep  of  mountain  and  sky  flooded 
with  summer  sunshine. 

"  Such  a  day  seems  to  make  one  richer,"  said  Doro- 
thy at  last.  "  I  like  better  the  mountains,  or  the  ocean 
—whichever  one  I  happen  to  be  with,"  she  added 
smiling. 


190 

"  Your  heart  is  big  enough  to  take  in  both,"  retorted 
Ned. 

They  laughed.  "I  wonder  what  news  you'll  have 
of  your  motor  car,"  said  the  girl.  They  talked  of 
this,  and  of  what  part  of  the  proposed  route  would 
probably  have  to  be  cut  out  by  the  delay  here,  Doro- 
thy asserting  that  everybody  but  "  poor  Mrs.  Long- 
ley"  had  enjoyed  the  delay,  except  for  its  cause. 

"  Oh,  no,  there's  one  other  exception  to  the  enjoy- 
ment," said  Ned ;  "  and  here  he  comes,"  as  Nemo  came 
running  up  the  hill  and  pushed  his  head  into  Dorothy's 
lap.  "  His  hair  is  growing  finely,"  he  added  as  she 
caressed  her  pet. 

They  were  still  sitting  there  when  Rex  and  Lulu 
came  up.  The  former  sprang  out,  and  giving  one 
hand  to  Lulu  to  help  her  alight,  pulled  out  his  watch 
with  the  other. 

"  Twenty-nine  minutes ! "  he  announced.  "  One 
minute  to  spare !  Sha'n't  we  use  that  up,  Miss  Brom- 
ley?" 

*'  No,  indeed !  Put  it  out  at  interest !  "  she  retorted 
joining  the  others  on  the  veranda. 

"  And  now  for  the  tug  of  war ! "  said  Rex.  "  I 
refer  to  the  baby  advertisement.  I'm  going  to  dis- 
appear and  set  my  wits  whirring — Miss  Bromley  has 
been  sharpening  them.  In  half  an  hour  I  expect  to  re- 
turn with  the  great  deed  accomplished.  See  that  you 
are  all  assembled — I  say,  to  criticise;  but  I  mean  to 
applaud." 

And  Rex  disappeared. 

It  was  a  short  half-hour  when  he  returned.  "Oh, 


HOW   REX    PUT   IT  191 

you've  beaten  them  in,"  he  said  with  a  satisfied  nod 
when  he  saw  that  Ned  had  collected  the  others  as 
audience. 

"  We  are  waiting  to  be  thrilled,"  said  Lulu. 

"Here,  little  one,"  began  Rex,  giving  the  baby  a 
bit  of  candy  be  had  bought  in  the  hotel  store  for  her. 

"This  is  bribery  and  corruption,  I  know;  but  she 
must  be  satisfied.  And  now,  Dah-dah,  how  will  this 
do?  If  you  are  pleased,  the  rest  ought  to  be."  And 
from  a  slip  in  his  hand  he  read : 

; '  Found :  Something  small  and  movable  of  great 
value.  Owner  may  take  possession  by  proving  prop- 
erty and  paying  charges.' 

How's  that?" 

"  But  you've  not  told  what  is  lost ! "  cried  Miss 
Knowles. 

"  But  you  didn't  want  me  to,"  retorted  Rex.  "  You 
were  afraid  somebody  would  put  in  a  false  claim." 

"  I  know.  But  now  I'm  afraid  that  nobody  will  put 
in  any  claim  at  all.  You've  not  made  it  plain." 

The  young  fellow  sighed  audibly.  "I  thought  you 
never  ought  to  clear  up  things  until  the  last  chapter," 
he  said.  "  That's  what  they  do  in  our  family." 

"  Really,  I'm  sure  you've  not  been  explicit  enough," 
said  Dorothy. 

"  (Et  tu,  Brute! ' "  cried  Rex,  wheeling  round  upon 
his  sister. 

"Yes,  you  must  make  it  over,"  declared  Miss 
Knowles.  "  The  poor  mamma  must  understand." 


192      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"You've  made  no  allowance  for  the  intuitions  of 
a  mamma's  heart,"  retorted  Rex.  "And,  anyway, 
'twill  have  to  stand,  for  I've  sent  it  off  to  all  the 
daily  papers  in  A ." 

Smiles  in  the  audience  mingled  with  the  protesta- 
tions of  Bab's  self-constituted  guardian. 

"  That's  rich ! "  cried  Ned  in  an  aside  to  Priscy 
whose  dancing  eyes  gave  him  an  appreciative  reply. 
"  But  it  won't  do,  I'm  afraid.  We  must  make  things 
clearer  if  it  does  not  answer." 

"  I  expected  at  least  to  be  thanked,"  resumed  Rex. 

«  T » 

A  sound  on  the  gravel  of  the  driveway  made  him 
turn  suddenly. 


xvnr 

HONK!  HONK! 

"  AH,  HA  ! "  he  cried  in  affected  astonishment  watch- 
ing a  motor  car  as  it  swept  up  to  the  steps.  "  On  my 
word,  they  look  familiar!  Why!  That  you,  old  fel- 
lows? How  did  you  happen  to  arrive  just  in  the 
nick  of  time  to  pass  judgment  on  my  poor  efforts 
which  are  having  hard  luck?"  While  talking  he  had 
run  down  the  steps  and  was  shaking  hands  vigorously 
with  the  newcomers.  "  Now,  we  will  institute  a 
court  of  arbitration,"  he  declared  when  the  first  words 
of  greeting  had  been  exchanged.  "  Miss  Knowles  and 
I  will  be  pleaders — Doro,  you're  out  because  you've 
already  expressed  your  opinion — •— " 

"  Against  you !  "  interposed  Lulu. 

"The  unkindest  cut  of  all!"  he  quoted  glancing 
at  her.  "  Mr.  Norcross,  Miss  Knowles ;  and  Messrs. 
Winder  and  Raynor,  Miss  Knowles — we  sometimes 
call  them  wind  and  rain;  and  I've  known  them  to 
raise  a  storm  to  justify  their  names." 

"  You  see,  we  are  here  at  last !  "  laughed  Raynor. 

Rex  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  glanced  at  his  sis- 
ter. 

Norcross  after  acknowledging  his  first  introduction, 
had  made  his  way  up  to  Priscy  whom  he  had  met  the 
previous  winter  when  he  had  motored  over  from  col- 
lege to  Hosmer  Hall  with  Rex  to  see  his  sister. 

193 


194      DOROTHY  BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"  Ah,  Miss  Pell !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  It's  delightful  to 
find  you  here.  Every  time  I  see  you,  the  vision  grows 
more  charming;  one  ought  to  stay  away  a  good  while 
at  that  rate — if  only  one  could;  but  the  fact  is,  one 
simply  can't  do  it."  And  he  held  out  his  hand  to  her. 

Priscy  regarded  him  with  unflinching  eyes  in  which 
was  a  touch  of  amusement.  "  How  do  you  do,  Mr. 
Norcross?"  she  said.  "You've  entertained  me  too 
well  to  have  me  forget  you;  I'm  glad  to  see  you." 
And  she  took  the  proffered  hand. 

"  Let  me  present  my  friends,  Winder  and  Raynor," 
he  said  the  next  moment.  "Brooke  has  given  them 
one  of  their  aliases;  but  a  more  common  one  and 
equally  deserved  is — '  the  Long  and  the  Short  of  it.' ' 
As  he  spoke,  the  tall  Winder  made  his  best  bow,  and 
the  diminutive  Raynor  bent  with  a  grace  which  his 
well-knit  figure  could  excellently  express.  He  was 
so  finely  proportioned  that  when  not  beside  other 
men,  he  appeared  taller  than  he  actually  was. 

Both  exchanged  a  running  fire  of  small  talk  with 
Miss  Pell  for  a  few  minutes.  Then  Raynor's  eye  was 
caught  by  Dorothy's  graceful  height  and  he  moved  to- 
ward her.  Winder  soon  found  himself  between  Miss 
Bromley  and  Miss  Hewes  where  he  remained  for  some 
time  well  contented — that  is,  he  remained  until  Rex's 
voice  called  upon  the  company  in  defense  of  his  adver- 
tisement. By  this  time  Norcross  was  occupied  in  try- 
ing to  convince  Miss  Pell  that  he  was  the  most  de- 
lightful of  fellows. 

It  was  at  the  same  time  that  Colonel  Pell  having 
settled  to  the  best  of  his  ability  the  vexed  question  of 


HONK!   HONK!  195 

monoplane  and  bi-plane  and  shaken  himself  free  of  a 
discussion  made  tiresome  by  its  arguers,  wandered 
to  the  parlor  window.  He  refrained  from  joining  the 
group  of  young  people  in  which  he  saw  the  strangers ; 
but  as  he  watched  for  a  full  minute  the  byplay  between 
Norcross  and  Priscy,  and  read  the  unveiled  admiration 
in  the  young  man's  eyes  bent  upon  her,  and  warmed 
with  gratitude  at  the  girl's  proud  reserve  through  all 
her  fun,  the  state  of  affairs  between  his  daughter 
and  himself  came  home  to  him  with  the  sharpest 
pain  he  had  yet  felt ;  his  brows  knitted  with  it,  and  as 
he  finally  turned  away — for  he  did  not  wish  to  be 
observed — he  understood  better  than  ever  that  his 
little  daughter  who  could  have  no  mother's  care,  stood 
sadly  in  need  of  a  father's.  He  admired  Priscy's  reti- 
cence, so  like  the  Pells,  he  told  himself.  He  could 
not  have  chosen  for  her  friends  so  admirable  as  she 
herself  had  won  in  Dorothy  and  the  others,  Still, 
none  of  them  had  authority  over  her.  And  who  was 
this  fellow?  Yet  whoever  he  was,  at  the  best,  Pris- 
cilla  was  much  too  young;  her  father  must  have  her 
for  himself  for  a  while ;  she  must  have  her  opportunity 
to  be  a  daughter  before  she  should  be  won  by  a  lover. 
Suddenly,  girlhood  seemed  sacred  to  him.  That  siege 
which  Dorothy  Brooke  had  enjoined  upon  him  should 
be  pushed  more  desperately  than  ever.  He  glanced 
at  the  latter  as  she  stood  speaking  to  her  brother's 
guests,  for  such,  in  a  sense,  she  had  perceived  that 
they  were,  and  as  he  turned  away,  his  frown  was  still 
deep.  He  did  not  like  these  newcomers. 

"  Now,   attention ! "     Rex   called    insistently.     "  I 


196      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

think  this  advertisement  is  very  striking."  And  after 
a  brief  explanation  of  the  situation,  he  read  the  notice 
with  an  air  of  pride.  "What's  the  matter  with  it?" 
he  asked  turning  to  his  audience  who  had  suspended 
conversation  to  listen. 

"  It  is  very  striking,"  commented  Raynor.  "  But  it 
strikes  me  that  it  strikes  in  the  wrong  place." 

"In  what  place?" 

"  I  should  have  said  '  in  the  wrong  places/  Now, 
'something  small  and  movable  of  great  value/  No- 
body calls  a  child  something  small  and  movable  of 
great  value.  We  apply  that  to  jewels." 

"  Oh,  you'll  get  a  black  mark  in  your  history,  Ray- 
nor." 

"  Indeed !  That's  what  you  do  yourself,  Brooke — 
get  black  marks  in  your  history,  or  you  would  if  they 
marked  at  all,"  flashed  back  the  other. 

"  I'm  sure  Cornelia  did ;  she  called  her  children  her 
jewels,"  went  on  Rex,  too  well  accustomed  to  Ray- 
nor's  style  of  retort  to  heed  it. 

"Oh,  to  be  sure — if  you  motor  back  to  Roman 
days,"  admitted  Raynor. 

"Yes;  it  was  of  her  I  was  thinking;  I  must  have 
been,"  pursued  Rex.  "  That's  the  way  Dah-dah's 
mamma  will  feel,  I'm  confident;  that's  why  I  thought 
it  would  attract  her  attention.  Oh,  I  know  what  I'm 
about.  Now,  what's  the  other  strike  in  the  wrong 
place?" 

"  Proving  property  and  paying  charges,"  pro- 
nounced Raynor.  "What  an  absurd  way  to  speak 
of  a  child!" 


HONK!   HONK!  197 

"  But  you  said  just  now  that  according  to  the  first 
part  of  the  advertisement,  it  was  a  jewel;  and  that 
fits  jewels  exactly.  I  tell  you  I'm  all  right.  Come, 
Norcross,  give  me  a  puff.  Authors  like  puffs." 

"  I  was  thinking/'  answered  the  young  man,  "  that 
the  best  way  to  clear  up  the  tangle  between  jewels 
and  babies  would  be  to  have  you  stand  in  turn  before 
the  different  newspaper  offices  with  the  infant  on  your 
shoulder,  after  the  manner  of  the  figures  of  Indians 
at  cigar  stores.  That  would  make  plain  what  you 
did  mean." 

A  flash  of  anger  shot  into  Rex's  eyes.  But  the  next 
moment  he  laughed,  and  catching  up  Bab,  placed  her 
on  his  shoulder  in  a  pose  so  attractive  that  an  involun- 
tary exclamation  of  pleasure  went  through  the  group. 
The  young  man  and  the  little  child  were  all  the  more 
charming  when  Bab  looking  up  into  the  face  of  her 
captor,  stroked  his  cheek  and  said :  "  Unc !  Unc ! " 

"That's  the  second  time  she's  said  it.  You,  cer- 
tainly, do  remind  her  of  a  relative  of  hers,"  said 
Lulu. 

"  But  what  has  Longley  to  say  to  all  this?"  ques- 
tioned Norcross.  "  It  seems  to  me  he  ought  to  have 
a  voice." 

"  Oh,  no ;  he  has  his  vote  with  the  rest  of  you," 
retorted  Rex;  "and  that's  all  he  is  entitled  to.  He 
saved  the  child's  life,  and  that's  enough  for  him." 

"  And  when  am  I  going  to  have  a  chance  to  speak? " 
questioned  Miss  Knowles. 

"  I  do  ask  your  pardon,"  cried  the  young  man  peni- 
tently. "  I  forgot  that  there  was  more  than  my  side. 


198      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S    VACATION 

You  should  have  begun,  by  all  means.  We  are 
silent." 

But,  even  then,  she  was  not  allowed  to  put  in  her 
plea.  For  Bab  set  up  a  piteous  wail,  and  when  Rex 
in  place  of  returning  her,  strove  to  comfort  her,  Miss 
Knowles  remembered  that  the  dear  little  thing  was 
hungry,  and  disappeared  leading  Bab.  At  the  door  she 
looked  over  her  shoulder  to  declare  that  she  cared  for 
only  one  thing — to  have  Bab's  parents  found. 

"Yes,  I  was  wondering,"  returned  Rex  as  a  part- 
ing shot,  "  if,  instead  of  '  found  '  I  shouldn't  have  said 
*  lost '  and  advertised  for  papa  and  mamma  ?  The 
baby  is  found,  anyway;  it's  the  others  who  are  miss- 
ing." 

Dorothy  stood  watching  her  brother,  enjoying  his 
fun  and  proud  of  his  cleverness  and  good  temper. 
But  she  saw  that  Ned,  although  amused,  was  no't 
satisfied,  and  said  so  to  him. 

"  It's  very  bright  indeed,"  he  answered ;  "  but, 
thanks  to  Miss  Knowles,  it's  not  plain.  But  there  must 
be  a  call  for  Dah-dah  in  to-morrow  morning's  papers. 

Too  bad  there  was  nobody  to  go  to  A about  her 

to-day.  There  shall  be  to-morrow.  There  is  some- 
thing odd  about  this  affair." 

Toward  noon  of  the  day  following  Rex's  telephon- 
ing his  advertisement  to  the  dailies  of  A and  his 

arranging  to  have  the  answers  forwarded  to  Ned 
whose  initials  he  had  signed  to  the  advertisement,  he 
came  into  the  office  as  Ned  springing  from  a  motor 
car  at  the  hotel  door  ran  in  for  his  mail. 


HONK!   HONK!  199 

"  Hello,  Longley !  Where  on  earth  have  you  been 
all  the  morning?"  he  called. 

"  I  ran  down  to  A to  look  up  Dah-dah's  record 

— and  especially  her  parents.  But  I  could  find 
nothing." 

"  You  must  have  started  at  peep  of  dawn ! " 

"  I  had  an  early  breakfast.  I'm  worried  about  the 
little  thing.  And  so  is  mamma." 

"  I  saw  that  she  was.  I  suppose  the  only  reason 
why  you  didn't  go  yesterday  was  because  you  were 
physically  unable  to  do  it." 

"  I  suppose  it  was,"  said  the  other  receiving  his 
mail. 

"Well!  You've  a  stack  of  letters,"  cried1  Rex. 
"  There  may  be  something  about  lost  babies  among 
them." 

"  Some  replies,"  answered  the  latter,  opening  them. 
"  But  no  information.  Nobody  has  hit  it." 

"All  private  and  confidential?"  questioned  Nor- 
cross  approaching.  "  I  should  like  to  know  what 
they  made  out  of  Brooke's  enigma." 

"  So  should  I,"  said  Rex,  "  if  I  should  not  be  con- 
sidered prying  and  impertinent." 

Ned  looked  up  from  the  last  reply  and  laughed. 
"  Hardly !  "  he  returned,  "  about  a  matter  which  con- 
cerns us  all.  Everybody — all  of  us,  I  mean — should 
hear  them ;  but  there's  nothing  here  that  we  want." 

" '  All  of  us/  "  announced  Rex,  "  are  in  the  east  par- 
lor with  your  mother." 

"Come  then,"  said  Ned.  And  the  young  fellows 
joined  the  group  about  Mrs.  Longley.  The  morning 


200      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

had  been  showery  and  everyone  had  been  hoping  that 
after  luncheon  it  would  clear. 

"  Several  answers  about  '  something  small  and  of 
great  value/  "  began  Ned.  "  Would  you  like  to  hear 
them?" 

"  Of  course  not!"  laughed  Priscy.  "How  can  you 
keep  us  waiting?" 

" '  Dear  Sir/  says  the  first  one  I  opened,  '  I  have 
lost  something  small  and  of  great  value — a  diamond 
stick  pin.  But  as  I  lost  it  two  months  ago  and  have 
advertised  in  vain,  I  despaired  of  ever  hearing  of  it. 
If  it  is  this  to  which  you  refer  (advertisement  en- 
closed), I  am  ready  to  prove  property  and  pay  all  rea- 
sonable charges/  ' 

"  I've  been  wanting  to  get  rid  of  an  old  paste  thing 
given  me  as  a  mark  of  especial  regard,"  declared  Win- 
der. "  I  couldn't  have  a  better  opportunity.  I  might 
make  a  little  out  of  the  transaction,  as  the  pin  cost  me 
nothing.  How  would  you  do  it,  Longley?" 

"As  you  like  it,"  retorted  Ned  turning  with  a 
laugh  to  the  second  answer.  Yet,  although  he  joined 
in  the  fun,  he  was  far  from  feeling  gleeful  at  re- 
ceiving no  news  of  Bab. 

"This  one  says,"  he  went  on,  "that  he  dropped 
a  roll  of  bills  three  days  ago,  and  hopes  that  we  have 
found  it.  He's  not  sure  of  the  exact  amount;  origi- 
nally, it  was  three  hundred  dollars;  but  his  wife  had 
asked  him  for  some  money  and  he  had  taken  out  a 
part  and  handed  to  her  without  counting  how  much 
it  was ;  she  must  know,  however,  but  he  could  not  get 
her  now  by  telephone,  she  had  gone  out;  as  soon  as 


HONK!   HONK!  201 

he  went  home  he  would  go  over  her  part  with  her 
and  let  us  know  as  soon  as  he  heard  from  us,  how 
much  it  was  that  in  some  way  he  had  pulled  out  of 

his  pocket  in  the  street  in  A ,  and  we  had  picked 

up!" 

"  Ha !  ha !  ha ! "  roared  Raynor.  "  Wives  with  their 
inaccuracies  are  mighty  convenient  sometimes — ha! 
ha!"  The  others  laughed  as  heartily,  if  not  as 
noisily. 

"Another  is  looking  up  some  lost  papers  of  value 
and  hopes  we  have  found  them,"  said  Ned.  And  he 
read  the  third  response.  " '  These  papers,  small,  mov- 
able and  of  great  value,  have  something  to  do  with  a 
will  case,'  the  note  says." 

"  What  a  lark !  "  cried  Raynor.  "  He  must  think 
you  lighted  on  a  lawyer's  green  bag." 

Here  Bab  interrupted  by  running  up  to  Rex.  "  Up 
on  ou  holder !  Up  on  ou  holder ! "  she  pleaded,  purs- 
ing up  her  little  face  to  cry  if  her  pleadings  were  not 
answered. 

"  This  thing  small  and  movable  and  of  great  value 
has  something  to  do  with  a  will  case,  sure  enough — 
or  a  case  of  will!"  said  the  young  fellow  swinging 
the  child  to  his  shoulder  and  dancing  her  there  until 
she  ^creamed  with  delight.  "  Come,  Dah-dah,  tell 
us  your  name.  There!  Listen!  She  doesn't  say 
'  Dah ' ;  she  says,  '  Bah-bah ! '  "  he  asserted  as  the  little 
one  responded. 

"Unc!  unc !"  she  added.  "Oumyunc!  Pooty 
unc!"  And  she  patted  Rex's  face,  while  a  roar  of 
laughter  from  his  college  mates  caused  him  to  color 


202      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

with  vexation.  He  set  the  child  down  with  hasty 
gentleness  and  slipped  to  the  outside  of  the  circle. 

"Brooke  bears  a  striking  resemblance  to  the  un- 
known uncle,"  asserted  Winder.  "  We  all  perceive 
that  must  be  so,  Miss  Hewes."  He  glanced  admir- 
ingly at  Rose  who  sat  beside  Mrs.  Longley  and  busied 
herself  with  fancy  work.  He  had  heard  that  she  was 
an  artist  and  he  thought  her  extremely  pretty,  which 
was  true,  and  he  was  considering  how  pleasant  it 
would  be  to  teach  her  to  find  him  fascinating,  as  in 
his  heart  he  believed  that  he  really  was. 

"Is  there  anything  more  in  the  note?"  asked  Ned's 
mother  as  the  latter  turned  back  to  it.  "  That  sounds 
to  me  genuine." 

"Yes;  a  little  more.  The  writer  says  that  these 
papers  have  among  them  a  just  will  which  would 
overthrow  an  earlier  one  founded  on  a  mistake.  He 
believed  that  they  had  been  stolen,  for  the  sake  of  this 
will,  and  he  is  very  thankful  if  we  have  them.  He 
adds  a  string  of  names  by  which  to  verify  the  docu- 
ments." 

"  How  I  wish  we  did  have  them ! "  cried  Dorothy. 
"  How  fine  it  would  be  to  set  matters  straight.  A 
will  case !  That  would  interest  papa." 

"  Papa ! "  echoed  Bab.  "  Mamma !  "  she  cried  jiext. 
"  Bab  wants  majnma." 

"  There !  "  cried  Rose.  "  I  understood  that.  Her 
name  is  *  Bab/  ' 

"Bab  what?"  said  Priscy.  "What's  Bab's  other 
name,  baby?  Bab — Bab — what?" 

But  nothing  came  out  of  the  silence  of  expectation 


CATCHING  UP  BAB,  HE  PLACED  HER  UPON  HIS  SHOULDER. 


HONK!   HONK!  203 

that  fell  upon  the  group  except  the  child's  reiterated 
"  Unc !  unc !  "  as  she  turned  back  again  to  Rex. 

"  Her  first  name  is  '  Bab,'  and  she's  fond  of  her 
uncle — especially,  when  he's  Brooke,"  asserted  Ray- 
nor.  "And  having  gained  so  much,  let  us  take  her 
home!" 

"  Any  more  letters  ?  "  asked  Dorothy. 

"A  lady  has  lost  her  chatelaine;  a  gentleman,  an 
amethyst  seal;  another,  a  ring."  And  Ned  ran 
through  a  list  of  articles  of  a  similar  nature. 

"  You  see,  Brooke,"  cried  Norcross,  "  nobody  has 
a  glimmer  of  an  idea  what  you  meant." 

"  Too  bad  there  are  no  bright  people  in  the  world," 
said  Rex  tranquilly. 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  retorted  Ned.  "  Here 
is  one  letter  saying  that  by  the  small  thing  being 
movable,  the  writer  believes  it  must  be  a  little  child ! " 

"  Ha !  ha !  Norcross !  There  you  are.  I'm  glad 
I'm  not  too  deep  for  anybody  to  fathom." 

"  On  the  contrary "  began  Winder. 

"Was  that  a  man,  or  a  woman,  Ned?"  asked  his 
mother. 

"  A  woman,"  he  answered  glancing  at  the  signature. 
"  But  we're  not  any  nearer  the  riddle  of  who  this  baby 
is;  and  this  is  the  second  day  since  she  was  lost.  I 
never  heard  of  anything  so  strange." 

"You  see,  you  needn't  be  afraid  of  her  being  kid- 
napped, Miss  Knowles,"  said  Rex.  "  Nobody  wants 
her." 

The  lady  shut  her  mouth  in  a  firm  line  and  made  no 
response.  But  she  resolved  that  Bab  should  not  go 


204      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

begging — not  even  if  she  were  to  carry  out  a 
plan  which  had  come  to  her  more  than  once,  namely, 
to  adopt  the  child  herself.  It  was  surprising  how 
much  the  care  of  the  little  thing  improved  her. 

That  afternoon  Ned  received  a  message  by  tele- 
phone from  Jimmy. 


XIX 

PRISCY   SPEAKS 

THAT  evening  Ned  wrote  to  his  father. 

"  I  wonder  where  you  are  to-night  ?  "  he  began.  "  It 
makes  you  seem  so  out  of  chatting  distance  to  remem- 
ber that  this  may  find  you  in  Chicago,  or  may  have 
to  be  forwarded  much  further  on. 

"  My  most  important  news  is  that  to-day  mamma 
came  downstairs  for  the  first  time  since  her  accident. 
She  still  limps  a  very  little ;  but  the  doctor  thinks  that 
she  will  get  over  that  soon  if  she  is  very  careful;  in- 
deed, he  emphasizes  that,  for  he  is  so  anxious  she 
should  feel  no  after-effects  of  her  fall ;  so,  he  has  kept 
her  from  using  her  foot,  except  lately  a  very  little,  on 
a  level. 

"  When  she  came  down,  the  girls  had  a  great 
bouquet  of  wild  flowers  on  a  stand  beside  her  chair, 
and  there  was  one  specimen  new  to  her.  I  think  she 
was  as  much  delighted  with  that  as  with  being  down- 
stairs again.  Dorothy — you  remember  Miss  Brooke 
who  visited  Grace  last  winter? — was  eager  to  pro- 
claim that  it  was  Rose  Hewes,  the  budrfing  artist 
Grace  wrote  you  about,  who  found  the  specimen.  I 
never  saw  anybody  who  enjoys  hearing  other  people 
praised  more  than  Dorothy  does.  She  is  a  fine  friend 
for  Grace. 

205 


206      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"Three  college  friends  of  Brooke's  have  arrived; 
so,  you  may  imagine  we're  a  merry  set.  I  don't  like 
any  of  them  as  well  as  I  do  him,  and  I  shouldn't,  if 
I  had  known  them  twice  as  long;  indeed,  one — the 
short  fellow — I  actually  dislike.  But,  taken  all  to- 
gether, they  certainly  make  it  lively. 

"You  know,  we  always  believed  Reid  had  a  good 
deal  in  him.  Some  of  it  has  come  out.  We've  been 
having  quite  a  circus  here.  I  have  waited  to  tell  you 
until  I  had  something  further  to  say — something  bet- 
ter, I  hoped.  Now  I  have  it — thanks  to  Jimmy !  The 
other  day  Manson  ran  off  with  the  motor  car."  Here 
followed  a  full  account  of  the  affair.  "  Reid  went 
after  him,  and  has  captured  both  car  and  chauffeur," 

wrote  Ned.  "  He  is  bringing  them  back  to  A ,  also 

a  young  woman  whom  Manson  has  just  married  and 
was  taking  on  her  wedding  trip  in  your  car.  Jimmy 
telephoned  the  news  of  the  capture  late  this  afternoon, 
and  asked  what  he  should  do  when  they  all  got  back  to 

A again?  Of  course,  it  was  impossible  to  get  at 

you;  and  mamma  and  I  had  to  decide.  Manson  was 
in  the  act  of  selling  the  machine  when  he  was  caught 
— pretending  to  the  purchaser  that  he  was  doing  it  on 
commission  for  the  owner.  But  he  had  not  actually 
done  it,  that  is,  he  had  not  delivered  the  car.  And 
there  was  the  poor  little  girl  who,  of  course,  knew 
nothing  of  the  truth.  As  we  had  the  motor  car  back 
in  good  condition,  it  seemed  best  to  let  Manson  go, 
especially,  on  account  of  Mrs.  Manson.  There  is  one 
thing  more  to  tell  you  in  this  connection.  It  was 
stupid  in  me  to  do  it,  since  from  the  first  I  did  not 


PRISCY   SPEAKS  207 

have  a  good  opinion  of  the  fellow;  but  I  advanced 
Manson  a  part  of  his  wages  the  very  day  before  he 
went  off,  because  he  begged  the  favor  of  me ;  he  had 
a  plausible  story  which  ought  not  to  have  imposed 
upon  me,  and  he  borrowed  the  car  in  the  rain  and 
came  back  with  it.  I  saw  him  that  night;  but  not 
again.  But  as  I  did  it,  I'll  foot  the  loss,  if  you  say 
so;  only,  if  you  do  say  so,  I  shall  be  glad  if  I  may 
make  it  up  in  instalments.  Somehow,  when  one  goes 
pleasuring,  there  are  always  so  many  things  to  spend 
money  for.  I  gave  Manson  bills  instead  of  a  check, 
and  I  knew  that  he  would  deny  the  whole  thing  to 
me,  as  he  did  to  Reid,  for  I  had  had  no  witness.  So 
I  didn't  spend  time  .over  it,  but  telephoned  Jimmy  to 
say  that  I  presented  it  to  the  bride  as  a  wedding  gift! 
Poor  little  thing !  She  will  need  that  and  a  great  deal 
more  before  she  has  lived  long  with  Manson. 

"  Now  we  are  out  of  a  chauffeur.  I  have  wired 
Gardner;  we  have  a  pull  on  him  because  he  recom- 
mended Manson,  and  we'll  have  him  if  we  can.  I 
told  him — subject  to  your  approval — that  if  he  would 
come  to  us  now,  he  should  finish  out  his  vacation 
later.  He  may  be  away  from  home  at  present  and 
not  get  word  at  once.  But  I  think  that  we  shall  hear 
in  a  few  days  at  most ;  and  mamma  is  not  quite  ready 
to  start  yet.  When  we  do  start,  for  her  sake  we 
ought  to  have  our  own  man,  if  possible. 

"  Grace  said  she  wrote  you  about  the  baby  on  the 
track.  I  was  a  little  jarred.  That's  why  we  could 
not  look  up  the  baby's  home  at  once ;  and  why  Jimmy 
went  after  Manson  without  letting  me  know  when  he 


208      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

started.  We  put  an  advertisement  for  the  lost  baby 

in  every  daily  in  A ,  I  should  have  said  for  the 

'  found '  baby.  But  we  all  think  it  very  strange  that 
we  can't  find  yet  any  notice  of  the  loss  of  a  baby  in 
any  of  the  city  papers.  Mamma  and  all  the  others  say 
that  it  is  a  child  of  persons  well  off,  because  its  fine 
clothes  give  evidence  of  that.  But,  poor  little  mite, 
nobody  seems  to  want  it,  except  one  of  our  party, 
Miss  Knowles,  who  guards  it  day  and  night  with 
dragon-like  devotion,  so  that  the  rest  of  us  have  to 
get  glimpses  of  it  as  we  can — and  it's  the  prettiest  and 
brightest  little  creature.  '  Dah-dah,'  or  '  Bah-bah,'  she 
calls  herself — or  that's  the  nearest  that  we  can  get 
to  her  name.  She  talks  a  good  deal  in  her  way ;  but 
she  cannot  speak  plainly,  and  we  cannot  get  any  help 
out  of  her. 

"I  am  anxious  about  the  little  thing.  I  went  to 

A this  morning ;  but  could  find  no  clew.  We  must 

get  it  home  at  once.  I'm  beginning  to  think  it  was 
lost  on  purpose.  I  wanted  to  follow  up  Brooke's  ad- 
vertisement with  another  immediately.  But  I  did  not 
like  to  be  rude  to  him;  and  I  was  sure  that  every 
paper  I  took  up  would  have  a  call  for  Dah-dah.  But 
now  I  wish  that  I  had  not  lost  an  hour's  time.  For  I 
must  say  I  thought  that  the  most  absurd  advertisement 
that  even  Brooke  could  concoct.  I  did  not  see  how 
anybody  could  get  anything  out  of  it,  though  it  was 
very  funny  for  a  joke. 

"  That's  the  worst  of  Brooke — and  it  seems  to  be 
the  only  bad  thing  about  him,  but  it's  bad  enough — 
his  fun  runs  away  with  him  and  he  doesn't  know  when 


PRISCY   SPEAKS  209 

to  stop.     His  sister,  now,  has  the  finest  sense  of  pro- 
portion and  of  the  fitness  of  things." 

Ned  by  refusing  Jimmy's  offer  to  bring  the  party, 
policeman  and  all,  to  be  confronted  by  Mrs.  Longley 
and  himself,  had  cut  off  the  positive  information  con- 
cerning Bab  which  Delia  would  gladly  have  given. 
For  nothing  was  further  from  her  desires  than  injury 
to  the  child,  or  sorrow  to  its  mother. 

"  Reid  has  found  a  chauffeur  to  bring  up  the  car 
and  they  will  be  here  with  it  about  noon,"  announced 
Ned  coming  from  the  telephone  the  following  morn- 
ing. 

"Three  cheers  and  a  tiger  for  Reid!"  cried  Nor- 
cross.  "What  will  you  add  to  that,  Miss  Pell?"  He 
was  beside  her  as  he  had  been  since  breakfast  and 
intended  to  be  during  the  walk  and  climb  of  a  neigh- 
boring cliff  for  which  the  young  people  were  start- 
ing. 

It  puzzled  him  not  a  little  to  know  what  were  the 
relations  between  Miss  Pell  and  her  father;  certainly, 
they  were  not  normal.  Pell-Mell  received  the  young 
man's  attentions  with  a  nonchalance  which  turned  to 
somewhat  more  of  cordiality  when  she  perceived  her 
father's  eye  upon  her.  But  Norcross  with  all  his 
good  opinion  of  himself  comprehended  that  Priscy 
was  too  young  to  be  more  than  amused  and  mildly 
interested.  That  morning  he  bowed  to  Colonel  Pell 
who  entered  the  office  as  the  others  were  leaving  it; 
he  fancied  that  Priscy  had  not  seen  her  father,  but  he 
could  not  be  sure,  for  she  turned  suddenly  silent  and 


2io      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

they  went  on  for  several  minutes  without  her  answer- 
ing her  companion  in  more  than  monosyllables,  and 
sometimes  not  at  all.  Then  she  waked  up.  She, 
certainly,  could  be  most  entertaining. 

It  was  on  her  return  about  two  hours  later  that  her 
father  came  up  from  a  narrow  path  in  the  woods  near 
the  hotel,  and  with  greeting  to  the  party,  said  to  her : 

"  Priscilla,  I  want  to  speak  to  you.  I  trust  that  your 
friends  will  kindly  excuse  you  a  few  minutes." 

As  the  girl  silently  left  her  companions  and  joined 
him,  Dorothy  flushed  and  then  grew  pale  with  alter- 
nate hope  and  fear.  Would  there  be  reconciliation ;  or 
a  wider  breach?  Her  heart  lifted  for  an  instant  in  a 
prayer  that  things  might  come  right  between  the  two. 
She  recognized  the  authority  in  Colonel  Pell's  voice 
and  that  Priscy,  being  his  daughter,  had  no  choice 
but  to  obey.  She  looked  after  them  both  as  they 
turned  away  and  the  words  she  was  saying  to  Rose 
Hewes  tripped  for  an  instant.  Then  she  recovered 
herself  and  tried  to  keep  the  talk  from  turning  upon 
the  dear  friend  whose  welfare  she  had  so  much  at 
heart  and  who  was  going  on  to  meet  a  great  crisis. 
But  she  could  not  keep  herself  from  wondering  if  this 
were  another  move  in  the  siege  of  his  daughter's  heart 
that  Colonel  Pell  was  carrying  on?  Was  it  to  be  a 
summons  to  surrender?  And  would  Pell-Mell  do  it? 

Colonel  Pell  led  the  way  in  silence  until  they  came 
to  a  rustic  seat  under  an  elm  on  one  of  the  by-paths. 
"Let  us  sit  here,  Priscilla,"  he  said. 

Pell-Mell  could  not  speak.  She  was  angry;  yet  she 
was  awed  by  her  father's  manner.  And  something 


PRISCY   SPEAKS  211 

neither  awe  nor  anger  was  in  her  heart  also ;  she  could 
not  read  it.  From  under  her  long  lashes  she  glanced 
at  the  man  beside  her  with  a  sense  of  pride  in  him. 
If  only  he  had  been  different  in  some  ways,  how  glad 
she  would  have  been  to  have  him  her  father!  And 
he  could  be  so  very  kind  when  he  tried.  Then  she 
recalled  that  the  occasions  when  he  had  not  tried  were 
those  which  had  changed  two  lives  most  sadly,  and 
resentment  was  again  uppermost  in  her  thoughts. 

She  did  not  dream  that  he,  too,  was  embarrassed; 
that  in  his  silence  he  was  trying  to  find  that  gate  to  his 
little  daughter's  heart  which  was  the  least  rigidly 
guarded.  He  had  studied  science  a  great  deal;  but 
he  had  never  studied  girls,  not  even  the  girl-wife  with 
whom  years  ago  he  had  been  for  a  time  really  in  love. 
His  authority  had  brought  Priscy  there  in  order  that 
he  might  speak  to  her  uninterruptedly.  He  had  her 
obedience;  but  he  wanted  her  love,  and  authority 
would  never  win  him  that.  How  should  he  make 
her,  not  his  subject,  but  his  daughter?  At  the  mo- 
ment his  sins  of  coldness  and  neglect  came  back  to 
him  and  dimmed  his  vision  and  tied  his  tongue.  He 
could  not  see  the  clear  path;  the  simple  word  he 
did  not  know  how  to  speak.  And  the  longer  they  sat 
there  silent,  the  more  she  hardened  her  heart  against 
him. 

"  How  long  are  you  to  be  the  guest  of  Miss  Brooke, 
Priscilla?"  he  asked  finally. 

"  Only  a  week  after  we  get  back  to  her  home,"  she 
answered  him. 

"  And  then  where  do  you  go  ?  " 


212      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"  I  go  back  to  Hosmer  Hall ;  a  few  pupils  stay 
there  for  a  part,  or  the  whole  of  their  vacation." 

"  Those  who  have  no  parents,  or  whose  parents  are 
at  a  distance  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  think  that  is  it,"  returned  Priscy.  Her  heart 
was  beating  fast.  She  felt  what  was  coming. 

It  came.  "Your  parents — that  is,  both  of  them — 
are  not  dead,"  he  answered.  "Nor  is  the  living  one 
at  a  distance.  There  is  no  reason  why  you  should 
return  to  Hosmer  Hall  until  school  opens.  There  is 
no  reason  why  you  should  not  come  from  Miss 
Brooke's  home  to  me — your  father — Priscilla."  He 
spoke  calmly  from  habit  and  by  an  effort ;  but  he  held 
his  breath  as  he  listened  for  her  answer. 

"There  is  a  reason  why  I  should  return  to  the 
school ;  why  I  should  not  come  to  you,"  said  Priscy. 

"  What  is  the  reason  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  did  not  reply,  and  he  would  not  press  her  then 
for  an  answer.  "I  believe,"  she  said  after  a  pause, 
"  that  if  I  were  the  same  ignorant,  unkempt  girl  your 
neglect  made  me,  you  would  not  want  me  to-day." 

"I  sent  you  to  school  to  get  the  better  of  those — 
misfortunes,  Priscilla,  to  the  best  school  I  knew  of." 

"  Yes ;  it  was  the  only  way  you  could  get  rid  of 
your  daughter.  They  were  good  to  me  there,"  she 
went  on.  "But  I  can  read  it  all  backward  now,  and 
I  see  that  but  for  Dorothy  Brooke,  there  would  have 
been  no  place  for  me  and  I  should  never  have  been 
even  what  I  am  to-day.  Then,  when  I  became 
acquainted  with  the  girls  at  the  school,  I  found  out 
that  most  of  them  had  fathers  who  did  not  think  quite 


PRISCY   SPEAKS  213 

all  they  had  to  do  was  to  pay  their  daughters'  bills. 
I'm  grateful  to  you  for  doing  that,  it  belongs  to  a 
gentleman  and  I  try  to  pay  you  by  behaving  like  a 
gentleman's  daughter.  But  I  think  I  can  do  it  better 
away  from  you;  I  keep  remembering  so  many  things 
when  I  see  you." 

''  You  are  more  unforgiving  than  even  my  family," 
he  said.  "  Have  I  really  been  so  bad  to  you  as  that  ? 
It  was  bad  enough  to  let  you  alone — yes,  I  am  ashamed 
of  it."  His  voice  sank  into  silence. 

"It's  not  for  myself  alone,"  cried  Priscy.  "But 
you  remember " 

He  flashed  around  at  her  with  sudden  animation. 
"  Ah !  you  are  angry  because  I  have  married  again !  " 
he  cried. 

"  No,  that  is  not  so ! "  cried  the  girl.  "  I  know  you 
had  a  perfect  right  to  marry  again.  I  hope  you  will 
be  happy  now.  I  know  you  never  were  with  my 
mother." 

"Oh,  yes!"  he  answered — "very  happy  at  first. 
She  was  very  beautiful — and — we  loved  one  another." 

Suddenly,  the  girl's  eyes  blazed.  She  turned  upon 
her  father  sharply. 

"  And  you  leave  the  wife  you  say  you  once  loved 
lying  in  an  unmarked  grave ! "  she  cried.  "  I  can 
never,  never,  never  forget  that.  She  always  loved 
you,  to  the  very  last — when  she  knew  anything.  If 
in  her  life,  you  treated  her  as  you  have  treated  me, 
it  was  no  wonder  you  had  no  influence  over  her." 

He  sighed.  "Poor  child!  you  don't  understand," 
he  said.  "  But,  Priscilla,  you  are  mistaken.  Your 


214       DOROTHY   BROOKE'S    VACATION 

mother's  grave  is  marked  as  that  of  my  beloved  wife. 
It  was  done  before — you  went  to  school." 

"  Before  you  married  the  second  wife,"  revised 
Priscy. 

"  Certainly,"  he  answered  gently.  Possibly,  this 
had  been  the  bar  of  separation. 

"  Oh,  I  am  glad ! "  said  the  girl  with  a  sob.  "  She 
was  very,  very  wrong;  but — but  I  always  felt  you 
hated  us  both." 

"  Poor  little  girl ! "  he  sighed  again.  "  I'm  afraid 
I  have  been  cruel."  For  him,  admired,  praised,  sought 
after,  for  him  of  whom  criticism  was  rare  and  diffi- 
dent, to  have  confessed  so  much  as  this  was  a  con- 
cession that,  he  felt,  should  have  opened  wide  to  him 
the  gates  of  forgiveness.  As  he  watched  the  little 
downcast  face,  the  mouth  drawn  into  sad  and  tender 
lines,  tears  dropping  slowly  from  the  brimming  eyes, 
he  thought  that  he  had  won.  He  longed  to  put  his 
arm  about  her,  to  draw  her  to  him,  to  call  her  his 
dear  little  daughter  and  kiss  away  the  tears.  If  only 
he  had  done  it!  But  what  he  believed  a  wise  instinct 
withheld  him.  The  Pells  were  not  given  to  gush — he 
did  not  want  to  risk  a  repulse.  So,  he  sat  waiting 
until  she  had  recovered  herself.  Then  he  said,  still 
gently :  "  My  dear  child,  tell  me  why  you  think  that 
you  should  not  come  to  me — and  to  Mrs.  Pell  who 
longs  to  welcome  you?" 

Ah !  That  was  it !  Mrs.  Pell  longed  to  welcome  her ! 
Because  the  proud  woman  wanted  a  young  person  in 
the  house  to  make  it  more  attractive  to  her  guests,  to 
bring  other  young  people  there.  Priscy  recalled  her 


PRISCY   SPEAKS  215 

first  convictions.  Here  was  no  interest  in  her — no 
love ;  it  was  all  policy.  Her  father's  heart  was  as  cold 
as  it  had  always  been ;  he  was  only  scheming  to  please 
his  wife.  The  girl's  expression  hardened  so  that  her 
father  wondered  as  he  watched  her. 

"You  will  be  angry  if  I  tell  you,"  she  returned 
coldly. 

"  Nevertheless,  say  it — I  insist,"  he  repeated  as  she 
still  hesitated. 

Priscy  fixed  her  eyes  upon  his  face  and  answered: 
"The  reason  is  that,  though  everybody  else  admires 
and  flatters  you,  and  I  admire  your  learning,  I  don't 
respect  you;  I  can't  forget  what  you  have  done,  I 
can't  love  you ;  I  don't  believe  in  you." 

"  This  is  too  much ! " 

He  was  so  angry  that  he  could  not  say  another 
word.  He,  the  courted,  the  honored,  he  who  on  cer- 
tain subjects  was  appealed  to  from  all  over  the  world 
— he,  not  to  be  believed  in  by  his  own  daughter!  To 
have  humbled  himself,  and  to  be  so  insulted ! 

He  rose. 

Priscy  sprang  up  with  a  stifled  sob;  and,  silently, 
the  two  walked  to  the  hotel.  At  the  steps  he  lifted  his 
hat  and  left  her. 

Dorothy  from  her  window  saw  the  parting,  and 
her  heart  sank. 

"May  I  come  in?"  said  Priscy's  voice  a  minute 
later  as  she  knocked  at  the  door. 

Sitting  on  the  floor,  her  head  in  Dorothy's  lap  and 
with  the  girl's  gentle  hand  stroking  her  hair,  Priscy 
poured  forth  her  story  of  the  interview. 


2i6      DOROTHY  BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"  Pell-Mell,  you  make  a  great  mistake,"  said  Doro- 
thy; and  as  the  other  looked  up  at  her  eagerly,  she 
added :  "  I  am  sure  he  does  love  you ;  I  have  seen  it." 

"No!  no!"  said  Priscy.  "He  is  my  father,"  she 
sobbed;  "but  he  only  wants  me  for  convenience.  I 
do  want  to  love  him.  But  I  can't." 

"  Indeed,  you  can,  Pell-Mell,"  returned  Dorothy 
confidently.  She  was  always  scrupulous  not  to  repeat 
what  had  been  said  to  her  in  confidence,  so  that  even 
now,  she  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to  repeat  to  Priscy 
what  had  passed  between  Colonel  Pell  and  herself ;  but 
she  did  tell  that  he  had  spoken  of  her  in  such  a  way 
that  it  was  plain  that  he  loved  his  daughter  and  desired 
her  affection. 

"He  is  my  father,"  repeated  Priscy — "the  only 
person  very  near  to  me  I  have  in  the  world.  I 
really  do  so  want  to  love  him — but  I  never  can." 

Dorothy  stooped  and  touched  the  other's  forehead 
with  her  lips. 

"Pell-Mell,  you've  begun  now  to  love  him,"  she 
answered. 

"  Oh,  I  hope  not ! "  cried  Priscy  with  a  sob.  "  For 
now  he  will  never  forgive  me." 


XX 

A  FRANTIC   MOTHER 

"SnURE,  an'  is  he  niver  comin'?"  quavered  Mar- 
garet, the  cook,  her  eyes  shining  through  tears  as 
she  gazed  into  the  distressed  face  of  Nell.  "  An'  that 
wicked  Delia  runnin'  off  till  no  one  knows  what- 
iver's  become  of  her,  an'  she  the  only  one  knowin'  to 
where  Mrs.  Ridgeway  is  to  be  found !  But,  shure,  an' 
that  may  be  a  mercy,  for  what  would  the  poor  little 
woman  do  with  her  nerves  that  makes  her  sick  if 
baby  just  gives  a  cough  or  two,  for  fear  of  the  croup? 
An'  now — oh,  it's  dreadful,  Nell!  I  should  think 
you'd  be  out  of  your  head  with  havin*  been  the  one 
that's  all  to  blame." 

"  An*  where  does  Delia  come  in  then?  "  cried  Nell — 
"bad  luck  to  her,  the  lyin'  cratur!  But  if  only  he 
would  come  back ! "  she  went  on,  too  absorbed  in  the 
misfortune  that  had  befallen  them  to  defend  herself 
with  her  usual  spirit 

"Oh,  he's  no  account,  anyway.  When  you  take 
his  nose  out  of  his  books,  he  can't  see  six  inches 
straight  afore  him!"  returned  the  cook.  "An'  me 
preparin'  his  meals  ivery  time  since  yisterday  mornin', 
an'  niver  a  sight  of  him,  an*  he  wint  off  a-Winsday 
mornin'  right  after  his  lunch,  an'  here  it  is  a-Friday 
an'  his  lunch  all  ready — an'  where  is  the  man  ?  " 

"I'm  afraid  to  death  to  see  him,"  said  Nell;  "but 

217 


218      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

for  all,  he's  the  one  I  want  most  to  see.  My  eyes  are 
most  out  of  my  head  with  cryin',"  she  added.  "  But 
it's  little  I'd  care  for  that  if  the  cryin'  would  a-done 
any  good.  Poor  little  lamb,  whatever  can  have  be- 
come of  her?  In  the  old  country  they'd  have  said 
the  fairies  had  stolen  her.  I'd  say  'twas  the  gypsies, 
but  I  ain't  seen  any  round — have  you,  Meg?"  she 
asked  with  a  flash  of  hope. 

But  Margaret  shook  her  head.  "  There  ain't  a 
thing  we  can  do  now,"  she  declared,  "but  wait  for 
that  man  that'll  always  leave  the  blessedest  one  in  the 
world — that's  our  baby — to  run  after  a  book — what's 
a  book,  anyway !  I  niver  see  such  a  man." 

"An'  I  niver  want  to  again,"  chimed  in  Nell.  "  But 
what's  that  noise?  The  key  in  the  door!  Oh,  what 
if  it  should  be  Mrs.  Ridgeway?  I'm  that  frightened, 
I  can't  move.  Run  and  peep,  Meg." 

"  Here  I  am  at  last ! "  said  a  cheerful  voice  as  Pro- 
fessor Griswold  having  let  himself  into  the  house  and 
thrown  his  overcoat  on  a  chair  in  the  hall,  stood  look- 
ing at  the  two  maids. 

"An',  shure,  sor,  ye  're  a  sight  for  sore  eyes!" 
retorted  Margaret.  "  An'  ye  away  all  this  time,  an* 
we  niver  know  where  to  find  ye,"  she  added  with  a 
disposition,  as  she  put  it  to  herself,  to  give  it  to  him, 
strong  upon  her. 

Professor  Griswold  had  dignity;  but  he  was  hum- 
ble and  any  one  might  tell  him  his  faults.  As  he 
looked  at  the  cook,  reinforced  by  the  presence  of  Nell, 
he  asked  wonderingly :  "  And  why  should  you  want 
to  be  told  where  I  was?  " 


A   FRANTIC   MOTHER  219 

"An'  why  is  it,  do  ye  ask  me?"  cried  the  cook, 
her  voice  gaining  shrillness  with  her  earnestness.  "  An', 
shure,  isn't  the  mistress  away,  an'  the  master.  An' 
what  are  we  to  do,  shure,  if  anythin'  happens?" 

"  Why,"  returned  the  professor,  his  eyes  twinkling, 
"what  can  happen  with  two  efficient  maids — no,  I 
think  there  are  three  of  you  in  the  house,  to  look 
after  baby  and  everything — what  can  happen,  I  say?  " 

"  There  ain't  three,  sir,"  cried  Nell  eagerly.  "  The 
baby's  nurse  has  run  off  with  a  young  feller  a-comin' 
for  her  in  an  auto,  an'  me  an'  Meg — is  all  that's  left." 

"  And  Bab ;  you  don't  forget  Bab,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  an'  shure ! "  groaned  Margaret,  and  was 
silent,  while  Nell  lifted  tear-stained  eyes  to  his. 

The  professor  was  startled.    He  woke  up. 

"What's  wrong?"  he  cried.  "What's  the  matter 
with  Bab?  Speak,  and  don't  stand  glowering  at  me 
without  a  word!  What  is  it,  Nell?  What  has  hap- 
pened?" 

But  his  energy  frightened  them  as  much  as  his  de- 
lays had  angered. 

"An',  shure,  the  little  darlint,"  began  Margaret — 
and  stopped  and  looked  at  her  companion  who  stood 
without  being  able  to  utter  a  word. 

"  What  about  her  ?  Isn't  she  well  ?  "  cried  the  pro- 
fessor in  dismay. 

"  Shure,  an'  we  don't  know,  sir,"  said  Nell  jat  last. 

"  You  don't  know !  "  cried  the  man.  "  What's  the 
meaning  of  this?  But  you  must  know,  of  course. 
Go  and  bring  her  to  me,  then — go  at  once,"  he  added 
as  Nell  stood  looking  at  him  helplessly. 


220      DOROTHY  BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"  An',  shure,  I'll  fly  at  the  top  of  me  speed,  sir, 
if  ye'll  only  tell  me  where  to  go,"  she  said. 

"  *  Where  to  go? ' "  echoed  the  professor.  "  Where 
to  go?  WHERE  TO  GO! "  he  repeated,  taking  in  at  last 
the  full  import  of  the  words,  and  gasping.  "You 
mean,  you  don't  know  where  to  find  her  ?  You  mean, 
she  is  LOST  ! " 

"  That  same,"  said  Margaret. 

The  professor  turned  deadly  pale.  "When  was — 
when  did  it  happen?"  he  asked  in  a  husky  voice. 
"Wednesday  afternoon!  And  you've  never  told  me 
until  now ! " 

"  Shure,  where  was  we  to  git  you?  "  retorted  Mar- 
garet. "  You  left  us  all  alone  with  niver  a  word  where 
to  send  if  you  was  needed.  That's  what  I  says  to 
you,  sor,  when  you  come  in  first." 

"Oh,  I  see,  I  see,"  said  the  professor.  "If  I  had 
intended  to  be  away  when  I  left  the  house  Wednesday, 
I  should  have  told  you.  But  something  sudden  turned 
up  that  took  me  out  of  town  and  kept  me  longer  than 
I  expected — and,  the  truth  is,  I  forgot  Mrs.  Ridge- 
way  was  absent.  You  sent  word  to  her?"  he  added, 
between  hope  that  some  one  had  been  on  the  child's 
track  and  dread  of  the  effect  of  the  news  upon  his 
delicate  sister. 

"  An',  shure,  sor,  Delia  was  the  only  one  that  knew 
where  to  send,  an'  she  went  off  just  about  the  time 
you  did.  We've  been  a-prayin'  the  saints  for  you  to 
come  back." 

The  professor  groaned.  "Haven't  you  done  any- 
thing?" he  inquired  sharply — "advertised  the  child 


A    FRANTIC   MOTHER  221 

in   the  newspapers  ?— told  the   police   that  she   was 
lost?" 

"  One  of  the  neighbors  offered  to  advertise  for  us," 
returned  Nell.  "But  we  was  afraid  you  wouldn't 
like  it,  an'  we  was  lookin'  for  you  every  minute,  sir. 
If  we'd  a-known  you  was  to  be  gone  so  long,  we'd 
a-risked  it.  But  we  did  tell  the  police  the  nex'  morn- 
in'." 

"An*  a  friend  of  Nell's  come  straight  up  an'  did 
everything  he  could  think  of,"  explained  the  cook. 
"  He  said  they  hadn't  had  a  word  about  a  baby  bein' 
found,  an'  it  must  be  a  case  of  kidney,  I  think  it  was 
he  called  it." 

"  Kidnapping,"  returned  the  professor,  his  face,  if 
possible,  more  grave  than  ever.  "But  did  either  of 
you  look  in  the  papers  to  see  if  a  child  had  been 
found?" 

"  That  we  did,  sir,"  cried  Nell ;  "  an'  niver  a  thing 
like  it  was  there.  People  had  found  jewelry  and 
things  like  that,  but  not  a  word  about  a  baby." 

"  I  see,"  answered  the  professor,  more  than  ever 
convicted  of  the  sin  of  absent-mindedness,  and  perceiv- 
ing that  this  time  he  would  have  to  answer  for  it  at  a 
price  too  frightful  to  dwell  upon  without  unnerving 
him  for  action.  "  Tell  me  all  about  how  it  happened," 
he  said,  turning  from  one  to  the  other  of  the  trembling 
maids.  "  Don't  hide  anything ;  for  the  better  I  know 
exactly  what  took  place,  the  more  likely  I  am  to  be 
able  to  trace  Bab."  His  voice  broke. 

The  women  glanced  at  each  other,  and  their  look 
said :  "  How  he  loves  that  baby !  " 


222      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"  Delia  went  off,  sir,  as  I  said,"  began  Nell ;  "  an' 
she  asked  me  to  take  care  of  Bab  for  the  day;  she'd 
be  back  that  evenin'.  Girls,  you  know,  sir,  does  such 
things  for  one  another." 

"  I  know,"  said  the  professor.     "  Go  on." 

Nell  gave  an  account  of  her  afternoon  in  the  field, 
shortening  the  time  that  she  had  really  staid  there, 
and  saying  that  she  went  into  the  house  to  get  a 
thicker  wrap  for  Bab  and  came  out  again  as  soon  as 
she  had  found  it,  for  she  did  not  know  where  Delia 
kept  the  baby's  things.  But  when  she  returned  Bab 
had  disappeared  utterly. 

"  It  does  look  like  a  case  of  kidnapping,"  said  the 
professor  in  answer  to  this  garbled  narrative.  "  Keep 
your  eyes  and  ears  open,  both  of  you,  and  I'll  see 
what  can  be  done." 

The  next  moment  he  had  taken  up  his  hat  and 
gone  out  again,  leaving  his  forgotten  luncheon  which 
the  cook  and  Nell  considered  too  good  to  allow  to 
spoil  untasted. 

As  he  quitted  the  house,  he  crossed  the  road  and 
stood  looking  into  the  field  opposite  and  the  railroad 
beyond  it.  He  shuddered.  Then  he  put  the  thought 
of  terror  out  of  his  mind,  lest  it  should  keep  him  from 
the  power  to  do  his  best  work  in  searching  for  the 
child. 

But  in  the  files  at  the  newspaper  offices  he  found 
no  mention  of  any  child  having  been  run  over  by  a 
train,  and  this  was  consolation.  The  nurse  had  stolen 
her  for  the  reward,  he  was  sure,  knowing  that  the 
mother  would  give  anything  to  get  Bab  again;  and 


A    FRANTIC   MOTHER  223 

Delia's  continued  absence  confirmed  his  belief.  Thus, 
instead  of  advertising  in  the  evening  papers  for  a  child 
lost,  he  put  in  a  call  to  the  maid  who  had  left  her 
place  suddenly  and  without  warning,  going  off  in  an 
automobile  Wednesday,  and  who  by  returning  would 
hear  something  to  her  advantage. 

"That  may  be  the  girl  who  ran  off  and  married 
Manson,"  laughed  Ned  as  in  a  careful  search  of  the 
papers,  he  came  across  the  professor's  advertisement 
the  following  morning.  But  how  could  he  connect 
this  message  with  the  advertisement  for  Bab  which  he 
was  constantly  looking  for? 

That  evening  the  professor  was  forced  to  telegraph 
to  his  brother-in-law  to  break  to  his  sister  the  news 
that  Bab  was  not  quite  well;  not  dangerous,  but  her 
mother  ought  to  know.  She  should  hear  again  the 
next  morning.  She  must  on  no  account  come  home 
unless  sent  for.  "  I  have  learned  nothing ;  I  must 
break  the  news  to  her  by  degrees,"  he  assured  himself. 

But  in  this  attempt  he  was  not  successful.  For  at 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning  Mrs.  Ridgeway  arrived, 
having  taken  the  midnight  train  home — the  first  one 
after  receiving  the  telegram.  When  she  learned  the 
truth  which  her  brother  had  not  dared  to  telegraph, 
for  fear  of  its  effect  upon  her,  she  inclined  to  his 
belief  as  to  Delia. 

"  Go  after  her ! "  she  cried  to  one  and  another  of 
those  about  her.  "  Look  her  up !  You  must  find  her. 
What  are  you  all  standing  round  here  doing  nothing 
for?  Give  her  any  money — everything  I  own. 
What's  that  compared  with  one  hour  of  my  baby?" 


224      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

Her  first  comparative  calmness  due  to  her  being 
partially  stunned  by  the  news,  over,  she  questioned  the 
maids,  and,  dwelling  upon  the  possibilities  of  the  rail- 
road tracks,  so  close  at  hand,  grew  more  and  more 
excited,  until  the  doctor,  hastily  summoned,  informed 
the  professor  that  Mrs.  Ridgeway's  case  was  serious 
and  that,  unless  some  news  of  the  child  came  soon, 
he  feared  death,  or  insanity,  for  the  mother.  If  the 
baby  was  not  found  speedily,  Mr.  Ridgeway  must  be 
sent  for  within  twenty-four  hours,  whatever  his 
mother's  condition.  His  place  was  here. 

Meanwhile,  a  moment's  rest  was  impossible  to  the 
young  mother.  She  demanded  what  the  professor 
had  done?  What  the  police  had  done?  She  insisted 
upon  seeing  the  papers. 

"  There  must  be  some  news  about  my  baby,  John," 
she  pleaded  piteously.  "  Here !  here ! "  she  cried  almost 
joyously.  "  Listen  to  this !  It's  in  Thursday  night's 
and  Friday's  morning  and  evening  editions;  that 
means  business.  They  wouldn't  do  that  for  just 
money,  or  diamonds,  or  anything  like  that!  Some- 
thing small,  and  very  valuable,  and  movable ! "  And 
twice  she  read  Rex's  notice  aloud.  "  That's  a  baby, 
John.  I'm  a  mother;  I  ought  to  know.  Go  and  get 
her  for  me — now! — now!  Telephone  the  papers 
immediately." 

It  was  hard  to  have  to  tell  her  that  the  papers 
would  not  give  the  address  of  the  advertiser,  but  would 
only  forward  all  replies  at  once. 

"  I  will  go  and  see  them  in  the  morning,  and  ex- 
plain," said  her  brother.  "  I'll  get  the  address  for 


A   FRANTIC   MOTHER  225 

you  and  find  Bab  in  the  morning.  Go  to  sleep 
now." 

"  Sleep !'"  she  cried.  "  What  time  is  it  ?  How 
long  before  the  newspaper  offices  open?  You  will  be 
there  the  instant  they  do,  John  ?  " 

"Is  Bab  nothing  to  me,  Kitty?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  yes,  of  course.  But  not  as  she  is  to  me. 
You'll  be  there,  John?" 

"If  I'm  alive,"  he  answered  her. 

"  I'm  just  sure  that  precious  thing — so  valuable — 
can  be  nothing  but  my  Bab.  You'll  see." 

"Then  you've  not  long  to  wait.  Do  try  to  rest," 
he  begged  her. 

"  Rest ! "  she  shrieked.  " Oh,  John!  Perhaps  it  is 
not  Bab!  Then,  what  should  I  do?  Then,  I  should 
die." 

"  No,  indeed ! "  he  answered  with  decision.  "  You 
couldn't  die.  Of  course,  you'd  have  to  live,  to  find 
Bab.  You'd  try  the  next  thing." 

"What  is  the  next  thing?"  she  asked,  fixing  wild 
eyes  upon  him. 

But  the  poor  professor  did  not  know ;  he  made  sug- 
gestions that  did  not  comfort  her. 

Thus  the  hours  wore  away,  until  at  the  first  possible 
moment  he  went  upon  his  errand. 

The  editors,  however,  were  not  the  obliging  person- 
ages he  had  imagined  them ;  they  had  duties  to  their 
advertisers  and  adhered  to  their  pledge  to  forward 
answers  immediately — which  in  itself  was  an  excep- 
tion ;  but  the  address  they  would  not  give. 

At  last,  one  editor,  touched  by  the  professor's  story, 


226      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

offered  to  telephone  for  him.  "  It  will  cost  you  a  little, 
however,"  he  explained. 

"  No  matter  what  it  costs ! "  cried  the  professor. 

"  Um !  Not  much  head  for  business !  "  commented 
the  other  as  he  went  to  the  instrument. 


XXI 

FACE  TO   FACE  AGAIN 

"MOTHER,  dear,"  wrote  Dorothy,  "I  know  you 
don't  object  to  my  making  up  my  letter  in  this  scrappy 
way,  like  a  diary.  For  if  I  put  down  news — and 
notions — as  they  come  about,  or  pop  into  my  head, 
you  get  a  great  deal  more  than  if  I  try  to  get  every- 
thing at  once;  and  you  get  it  as  soon.  Thursday: 
Just  now  we're  tied  here  by  a  threefold  cord — Mrs. 
Longley  who  is  gaining  every  day  but  not  quite  yet 
able  to  start  on  our  trip  again,  the  doctor  says,  is  one 
strand.  Then,  Jimmy  Reid  is  chasing  Mrs.  Longley's 
chauffeur  and  is  on  his  track,  though  we  don't  know 
when  he  will  get  up  with  him — that's  strand  number 
two.  The  other  one  is  the  lack  of  a  chauffeur.  Ned 
is  going  to  have  their  own,  if  he  can  get  him  now. 
But  if  we  must  be  tied,  we  have  about  the  best  place 
we  could  find  to  be  tied  in;  the  scenery  is  beautiful, 
the  company  very  pleasant — some  of  it! — the  rooms 
cheerful,  and  the  table  and  service  good.  The  only 
trouble  is  that  we  get  restless  for  want  of  something 
to  do,  especially  now  that  there  is  but  one  motor  car. 

"  I  told  you  about  Ned  Longley's  bravery.  Wasn't 
it  splendid!  I  shall  never  forget  how  we  all  felt 
hurrying  along  by  the  track  after  the  train  had  passed 
and  we  didn't  know  what  we  should  find. 

227 


228      DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

"Yon  realty  ought  to  see  Miss  Knowles  with  that 
baby;  she  mothers  it  to  perfection.  They  all  laugh  at 
her;  but  nobody  else  would  want  to  take  all  the  trouble 
she  does;  and  when  this  afternoon  the  little  one  was 
fll — nothing  of  any  consequence — Miss  Knowles  was 
perfectly  devoted,  and  really  did  something — for  her 
— though  Rose  was  with  her,  and,  I  imagine,  did  a 
good  deal  of  the  real  service.  When  the  doctor  came, 
he  said  everybody  had  done  the  right  thing,  and  Miss 
Knowles  was  radiant;  but  Rose  did  not  care  for  the 
praise;  all  she  wanted  was  to  have  Dah-dah,  as  we  call 
her,  wen. 

u  Mother,  Fm  so  thankful  we  did  ask  Rose,  No- 
body has  been  sweeter  and  more  truly  refined  than  she, 
and  you've  no  idea  how  quickly  she  has  '  caught  on ' 
to  little  ways  that  perhaps  she  didn't  fully  know.  And 
then,  she  is  a  genius ! — in  the  way  to  be  a  famous  ar- 
tist." There  followed  at  some  length  a  description 
of  the  girl's  work.  "  She  says  I  may  tell  you  that  the 
portrait  of  me  is  for  you,"  added  Dorothy.  "And 
now  we  must  make  her  father  give  her  opportunities 
— 'we*  means  you,  mother,  with  your  faculty  for 
making  people  see  things  your  way;  you  will  just  have 
to  persuade  Mr.  Hewes.  The  father  is  the  difficulty; 
Rose  says  that  her  mother  would  give  her  anything 
in  the  world;  but  it's  he  who  has  the  money — and 
means  to  keep  it !  I  was  making  Mrs.  Longley  laugh 
at  what  you  said  last  summer,  that  he  had  a  '  nippy ' 
nose.  But,  nose,  or  fists — and  they  are  'grippy* — 
fee  wiH  have  to  give  Rose  her  chance.  Colonel  Pell 
says  she  is  a  real  artist,  but  she  needs  no  end  of  prac- 


FACE  TO  FACE  AGAIN  229 

tice.  Fve  set  my  heart  on  her  having  it  —  she  shall! 
Now,  yonTI  see:  Bat  it*  s  you  whom  your  little  com- 
rade counts  on  to  accomplish  tins  —  and  so  many  other 
tilings,  mother,  dear.  Just  tefl  me  what  you're  doing, 
and  who  is  with  yon  now,  and,  most  of  all,  if  you  are 
all  well?  I  —  there!  do  yon  see  that  fine  jagged  down 
the  page?  That's  where  I  went  to  sleep  writing  and 
my  pen  wrote  on  of  itself  —  evidently,  it  wasn't  in- 
spired! rflgotobed.  Goodnight. 

ef  Friday:  Jimmy  Reid  has  caught  the  chauffeur  and 
has  the  car  again  in  good  order  —  isn't  he  capable?  He 
will  probably  be  here  with  it  sometime  to-morrow. 
Rex  advertised  the  baby—  in  a  Hind  way  though,  we 
all  think.  Thus  far,  no  information,  and  no  advertis- 
ing a  lost  child,  which  we  aH  wonder  at  greatly.  This 
morning,  very  early,  Ned  went  to  A  -  to  try  to  look 
her  up.  But  he  had  no  success.  Rex  says  if  we  don't 
hear  anything  about  the  baby,  Hiss  Knowks  wffl  adopt 
her,  and  be  a  happy  woman  the  rest  of  her  fife,  and 
it  would  be  a  pity  to  ruin  such  bliss!  She  certainly 
has  grown  more  thoughtful  and  restful  —  in  her  own 
she  has  had  something  to  do.  But  I  can 


see  that  Ned  is  determined  to  find  out  where  the  child 
belongs  before  we  leave  here.  He's  very  restless  about 
it.  He  was  talking  it  over  with  me  to-day. 

"  Three  of  Rex's  college  friends  came  motoring  up 
yesterday.  Mr.  Noraoss  whom  you've  heard  some- 
thing about,  was  highly  delighted  to  find  PeB-Mett  hoe 
and  began  to  pay  her  attentions  as  he  did  last  year  at 
school;  he's  very  careful  to  be  respectful,  however,  for 
every  once  in  a  while  I  see  Colonel  Pefl  gite  him  a 


230      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

look,  and  I'm  sure  Mr.  Norcross  sees  it,  too.  Colonel 
and  Mrs.  Pell  leave  here  to-morrow,  I  hear.  I  can't 
blame  him  for  going  away.  Poor  Priscy  has  not  under- 
stood him,  or  believed  in  him,  and  the  talk  between 
them  from  which  I  hoped  so  much  has  only  set  them 
further  apart.  The  dear  child  half  sees  this  now,  and 
I  know  she  is  grieving  although  she  keeps  her  eyes 
bright  and  her  tongue  keen  before  people.  She  doesn't 
think  me  '  people '  though,  and  I  know  her  heart  aches. 
I  hoped  so  much.  But  then,  you  know,  mother,  I 
never  give  up  the  ship. 

"Mr.  Winder,  another  of  Rex's  college  mates — I 
won't  say  *  friends'  this  time — seemed  greatly  taken 
with  Rose.  I  knew  he  was  only  amusing  himself,  as 
young  fellows  do  to  make  the  time  pass  more  pleas- 
antly, and  so  did  she;  he  has  not  the  brains  to  please 
her,  I'm  sure;  anyway,  that  was  none  of  my  affair. 
But  what  makes  me  furious  is  that,  to-day,  when  he 
found  out  all  about  Rose — that  she  was  a  farmer's 
daughter,  I  mean,  and  hadn't  had  advantages,  Miss 
Knowles  must  have  told  him,  nobody  else  would,  not 
that  she  meant  anything,  but  she  blunders — when  he 
found  out  this,  I  was  saying,  you'd  have  thought  my 
lovely  Rose  was  a  hot  coal  that  he  had  burned  his 
fingers  with,  he  dropped  her  so !  It's  only  people  who 
have  no  standing  themselves,  as  you  say,  mother,  who 
are  afraid  of  being  seen  with  people  that  are  not  swell ; 
I've  noticed  that. 

"The  other  one — I  mean  Rex's  other  classmate — 
has  taken  a  violent  fancy  to  me — to  pass  the  time! 
I'm  beautiful,  and  I'm  talented,  and  I'm  altogether 


FACE   TO   FACE   AGAIN  231 

wonderful— until  I'm  afraid  that  some  day  he'll  find 
out  that  I'm  not  polite!  I  joke  with  him  to  his  heart's 
content;  it's  good  fun.  Sometimes  I'm  tempted  to 
simper  as  if  I  believed  him,  just  to  see  what  he  would 
do  next;  but  I  can't  quite  make  up  my  mind  to  it, 
something  keeps  me  back.  I  can  see  Rex  watching 
me;  and  then  he  laughs — at  Mr.  Raynor,  I  think. 
There  is  one  thing  though,  that  I  cannot  stand,  and 
will  not — whenever  Ned  Longley  comes  to  have  a  talk 
with  me,  Mr.  Raynor  glowers  at  him  and  then  comes 
and  interrupts  with  an  air  as  if  Ned  were  an  interloper. 
I  wanted  to  tell  him  yesterday  that  Mr.  Longley  and 
I  were  talking  business,  only  I  didn't  care  to  have 
him  know  it;  my  work  is  too  much  to  me  to  parade 
it  to  the  first  person  who  says  *  good  morning '  to  me. 
And  really,  mother,  in  spite  of  all  the  fun  we've  all 
had  on  this  trip,  there  has  been  something  accom- 
plished in  the  way  of  work ;  for  Ned  and  I  are  both  in 
dead  earnest  about  it,  and  when  one  is,  ways  of  doing 
things  open.  We  have  found  quiet  nooks  to  talk  over 
plots  for  dramas.  There  has  been  a  special  reason 
for  doing  it  here ;  when  Mrs.  Longley  hurt  her  ankle, 
she  and  all  the  others  wanted  us  to  get  up  something 
to  amuse  them  while  we  were  waiting  here.  They 
named  us  the  dramatists  and  insisted  on  our  doing  it. 
Ned  said  it  was  a  good  opportunity  to  get  experience 
in  the  practical  part  of  the  art;  so  we've  been  trying 
to  get  a  little  farce  into  shape  to  act  while  we  are 
here.  I'm  frightened,  and  I  believe  he  is,  but  he 
would  rather  be  shot  than  own  it;  so  I  smile  very 
carefully  to  myself  at  his  courage— there  is  no  doubt 


232      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

as  to  his  real  courage — and  we  have  written  out  a 
great  part  of  a  play  and  will  have  it  finished  in  a  few 
hours'  good,  hard  work.  We've  talked  over  who 
could  act  the  parts;  some  did  not  seem  to  fit  any  of 
us;  but  now  that  Rex's  friends  have  come,  there's  no 
trouble;  they  know  how,  and  they'll  be  too  glad  of 
the  fun.  I  suggested  it  to  Mr.  Raynor  this  morning, 
and  since  then  he  takes  it  for  granted  that  every 
time  Ned  speaks  to  me  we're  talking  over  the  play, 
and  up  he  comes  and  joins  in.  Rex  says,  however, 
that  Mr.  Norcross  is  the  trump  card.  If  we  do  any- 
thing, it  must  be  in  a  very  few  days ;  for  we  shall  not 
be  here  long  now.  In  the  next  letter  I'm  going  to 
tell  you  the  name  of  the  farce  and  all  I  can  about  it; 
but  I  want  to  have  those  hours  of  work  first,  so  that 
I  may  be  sure  that  there  is  to  be  something,  after  all. 

"  Saturday:  At  last,  I  have  some  real  news  for  you ! 
And  as  soon  as  I  have  told  it,  I  shall  send  off  my 
letter,  not  to  keep  you  waiting.  You'll  be  '  awfully ' 
interested.  Mother,  the  real  *  Monsieur  L'Imprevu  ' 
has  arrived!! 

"  It  was  so  beautiful  this  morning  I  couldn't  stay 
in  my  room,  though  I  did  want  to  be  quiet  and  think 
up  some  points  in  the  play,  and  other  things  also— 
among  them,  what  is  going  to  become  of  Priscy  and 
her  father — so,  I  waited  until  I  thought  everybody  had 
gone  off  on  an  expedition  somewhere,  except  Grace 
who  was  with  her  mother,  and  then  I  took  a  book  and 
ran  down  on  the  veranda  and  found  a  seat  unoccupied 
— there  were  enough  of  those — and  nobody  very  near. 

"  I  had  a  block  of  paper  in  my  book  and  I  had  taken 


FACE   TO   FACE   AGAIN  233 

my  pencil  from  my  belt  and  was  putting  down  an  idea 
that  had  popped  into  my  head,  when  I  heard  a  car- 
riage drive  up  to  the  steps;  it  was  one  of  the  hacks 
from  the  station  several  miles  off.  The  arrivals  here 
come  in  the  hotel  carriages  and  in  motor  cars,  and  I 
wondered  who  this  could  be.  A  gentleman  got  out 
and  told  the  hackman  to  wait.  He  was  not  young, 
but  he  was  not  old  at  all — getting  toward  middle  age, 
I  should  say.  He  was  not  exactly  handsome,  and  he 
looked  very  much  troubled,  almost  bewildered;  he 
seemed  to  me  like  a  person  who  could  make  up  his 
mind  decidedly  but  had  not  done  it  then  and  could 
not  tell  which  way  to  make  it,  he  was  so  disturbed. 
We  were  always  on  the  lookout  for  news  of  Dah-dah, 
and  something  said  to  me :  '  That's  Dah-dah's  father.* 
I  dropped  my  book  and  sat  watching  him.  He  saw 
me  and  came  up  to  me  eagerly  and  yet  as  if  he  were 
afraid  that  I  was  going  to  say  '  no '  to  his  question. 
He  bowed  and  was  really  fine  when  he  lifted  his  hat. 

" '  Can  you  tell  me,  madam,  anything  about  a  little 
child  that  we  have  lost? '  he  began.  '  We  fear  it  has 
been  stolen;  but  some  one  here  advertised  a  thing 
small  and  very  precious,  and  the  baby's  mother  insists 
that  it  is  Bab.  Do  you  know  anything  about  a  child 
being  found?' 

"'Indeed,  I  do!'  I  cried.  'I  was  there  by  the 
railroad  track  when  one  of  our  party  rushed  up  and 
caught  it  away  just  as  the  train  was  about  to  run  over 
it.'  If  I  had  wanted  proof,  mother,  that  he  was  a  near 
relation  of  Bab,  I  had  it  then;  he  turned  pale  as  a 
ghost  and  his  hand  gripped  the  railing  as  he  stood  star- 


234      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

ing  at  me  while  I  told  him  the  story  of  the  rescue. 
'Where  is  he?'  he  asked  about  Ned  the  moment  I 
had  finished ;  '  I  must  thank  him.  I  know  it  was  our 
baby,  because  she  was  in  the  field/  And  he  gave  me 
the  account  of  the  afternoon.  *  And  where  is  Bab  ? ' 
he  finished  looking  about  him  as  if  he  expected  her 
to  spring  up  from  the  floor,  or  drop  down  from  the 
ceiling.  I  told  him  she  was  with  one  of  our  party 
who  had  been  entirely  devoted  to  her  and  taken  every 
care  of  her;  I  thought  he  might  as  well  be  grateful  to 
Miss  Knowles  also,  she  deserved  it.  How  little  I 
knew!  I  added  that,  probably,  the  baby  was  having 
her  dinner;  I  thought  she  would  soon  be  on  the  ve- 
randa ;  but  I  would  look  for  her.  Then  I  asked  a  few 
questions  as  to  the  child's  appearance.  He  told  me 
her  age  and  the  color  of  her  eyes,  and  I  was  sure  that, 
at  last,  Bab's  parents  were  found — though  I  was 
wrong  on  one  point,  the  stranger  was  not  her  father, 
he  was  her  uncle,  her  mother's  brother  left  in  charge 
of  her.  On  the  spot  I  decided  that  I  should  never  leave 
anything  *  small  and  valuable '  in  Professor  Griswold's 
care.  But  now,  notice,  mother,  Rex's  advertisement 
did  it,  after  all ;  I'm  proud  of  that.  Dear  Rex !  You 
don't  know  what  a  comfort  he  is;  he's  so  thoughtful 
for  everybody — and  always  so  amusing ! 

"  But  I  am  leaving  the  poor  professor  standing 
there  by  the  railing.  I  gave  him  something  to  do 
though,  the  next  minute.  '  You've  told  her  mother 
that  you  were  coming  here?'  I  asked  him.  No,  he 
had  had  barely  time  to  make  the  train  after  telephon- 
ing here.  '  We  never  heard  you  had  telephoned  here ! ' 


FACE   TO   FACE  AGAIN  235 

I  cried ;  and  I  found  that  the  clerk  had  merely  assured 
the  editor  of  a  stray  child's  being  here ;  if  the  profes- 
sor had  called  up  any  of  us,  or  even  waited  for  par- 
ticulars, he  would  have  lost  his  train.  *  Don't  you 
want  to  send  word  to  her  now  ? '  I  said.  He  caught 
at  the  suggestion — funny  he  hadn't  thought  of  it  him- 
self— and  hurried  away  to  the  office.  As  he  came 
out  from  the  office  to  me  again,  and  I  was  going  to 
look  up  the  child,  I  heard  a  baby  voice,  and  there, 
coming  out  upon  the  veranda  were  Miss  Knowles  and 
Dah-dah,  or  Bab  as  the  professor  called  her;  they  were 
at  the  hall  door  when  I  saw  them.  The  professor's 
face  was  toward  me  and  I  watched  them  coming,  she 
holding  the  baby  in  her  arms,  and  wondered  what 
would  happen  when  he  turned.  In  another  moment 
Bab  stretched  out  her  arms  with  a  glad  cry  of : '  Unc ! 
unc!'  and  the  professor  wheeled  about 

"  Then  Miss  Knowles  looked  up  at  him — and  nearly 
dropped  the  child.  She  set  her  down  hurriedly  and 
stood  face  to  face  with  the  stranger.  A  great  tide 
of  crimson  swept  over  face  and  brow  and  neck,  and 
then  she  grew  pale  as  ashes,  her  lips  parted,  her  hands 
pressed  together,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  his  eyes;  it 
seemed  to  me  that  she  had  no  power  to  move.  Cer- 
tainly, he  was  no  stranger  to  her — nor  she  to  him,  for 
he  also  flushed  and  turned  pale  and  words  that  had 
been  ready  enough  to  me  failed  him  as  the  two  thus 
stood  staring  at  one  another.  She  was  the  first  to 
recover  her  calmness,  I've  read  somewhere  that  a 
woman  always  is,  and  she  dropped  her  eyes  and 
bowed  to  him  as  if  she  were  waiting  to  find  what  he 


236      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

would  do.  He  still  did  nothing  but  look  at  her,  and 
at  last  she  said :  *  Good-morning,  Professor  Gris- 
wold.  You  are  the  last  person  I  expected  to  see; 
but ' 

"'But,  you  see,  I  have  come  after  my  little  niece, 
Miss  Knowles,'  he  answered  her.  Not  until  then  did 
he  stoop  and  gather  up  the  baby  who  had  been  clamor- 
ing for  attention.  He  talked  to  her  for  a  few  seconds, 
and  then  as  Miss  Knowles,  paler,  if  possible,  than 
ever,  was  about  to  move  away,  I  spoke.  'This  is 
the  lady  who  has  been  so  very,  very  good  to  Bab, 
Professor  Griswold,'  I  said.  Perhaps  there  was  a 
touch  of  surprise  in  my  tone,  for  I  thought  he  was 
treating  her  strangely,  even  if  something  had  happened 
once  between  them,  I  suppose  it  was  a  quarrel.  But 
then,  one  ought  not  to  be  angry  forever.  Or  perhaps 
he  was  not  angry,  I  couldn't  tell.  After  I  had  said 
this,  he  turned  his  eyes  from  her  face  to  mine;  and 
when  he  turned  back  to  her  again,  his  look  was  quite 
indifferent  and  he  thanked  her  very  politely,  but  in  a 
society  tone,  as  if  she  were  another  person  from  the 
one  he  had  been  staring  at  with  all  his  soul  in  his 
eyes,  whether  in  anger  or  in  suffering,  I  could  not 
tell.  Mother,  I'm  certainly  looking  on  at  a  romance; 
but  it  does  not  seem  a  happy  one ;  it  seems  a  tragedy, 
a  wound  that  bleeds  inwardly.  I  wish  it  could  be 
healed — but  it  doesn't  look  so. 

"  As  the  professor  was  speaking,  something  made 
me  look  over  the  railing.  There  on  the  path  were 
Ned  Longley  and  Rex.  A  glance  at  their  faces  told 
the  story;  they  had  seen  everything  that  I  had,  and 


CERTAINLY  HE  WAS  NO  STRANGER  TO  HER. 


FACE   TO   FACE  AGAIN  237 

they  guessed  at  all  the  things  unseen,  as  I  did.  Ned's 
eyes  were  shining  with  interest  and  amusement,  and  as 
for  Rex's,  they  were  fairly  dancing.  Later,  I  should 
hear  from  them  both,  I  was  sure.  But  in  another 
moment  they  were  grave  as  judges  and  being  presented 
to  the  stranger.  There  were  congratulations  all  round 
on  the  finding  of  Bab — it  seems  that's  her  name; 
Ned  was  gratefully  thanked,  and  the  professor  and 
Miss  Knowles  did  not  look  at  each  other  any  more — 
except  when  each  believed  the  other  was  not  looking. 

"  Ned  insisted  on  Professor  Griswold's  staying  to 
luncheon ;  he  told  me  afterward  the  poor  fellow  didn't 
look  as  if  he  had  eaten  anything  since  he  had  learned 
that  the  child  was  lost. 

"  Rex  arranged  to  motor  him  home  if  Lulu  and  I 
would  go  with  him,  and  if  Miss  Knowles  would  come 
and  take  charge  of  Bab  until  the  little  one  was  in  her 
mamma's  arms.  Miss  Knowles  refused  at  first.  Why 
couldn't  Miss  Bromley,  or  Dorothy,  take  care  of  the 
child  when  her  uncle  was  with  her?  she  asked.  She 
could  not  go,  she  had  another  arrangement  for  the 
afternoon.  But  Rex  declared  if  she  would  not  go,  he 
would  not,  either;  that  would  leave  the  professor  and 
the  baby  to  the  mercy  of  a  late  afternoon  train.  Lulu 
and  I  backed  up  Rex  by  saying  that  we  would  not  go 
unless  she  did;  and  I  was  wicked  enough  to  remind 
her  that  until  now  she  had  thought  neither  of  us  had 
ability  to  look  after  the  baby  for  ten  minutes  at  a 
time.  'If  we  can't  get  her,  I  think  I  really  will  get 
out  of  it,  too/  Rex  had  muttered  to  me.  I  knew  it 
wouldn't  be  so  bad  as  that,  because  I'm  pretty  well 


238      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

acquainted  with  my  brother;  but  we  all  wanted  to 
see  the  fun  and  what  those  two  people  would  do.  In 
the  end  we  conquered;  we  all  started. 

"I'll  tell  you  about  it  in  my  next  letter;  this  one 
must  go  now.  Take  good  care  of  yourself,  mother, 
dear;  I  know  you  will  of  everybody  else!  Love  to 
every  one,  says  your  affectionate  '  little  comrade,' 
Dorothy." 


XXII 

NED   SIDES    WITH    DOROTHY 

"JUMP  in  ahead  on  the  front  seat,  please,  both  of 
you,  and  leave  Miss  Knowles  to  the  professor,"  said 
Rex  in  an  undertone  as  he  held  out  a  hand  to  help 
the  girls  in  while  wraps  were  being  looked  up  for  Bab. 
When  Miss  Knowles  appeared  carrying  the  baby  too 
bundled  up  to  walk,  she  looked  with  a  certain  con- 
sternation at  the  place  reserved  for  her  and  at  Pro- 
fessor Griswold  who  stood  waiting  to  help  her  in  and 
take  the  seat  beside  her.  Rex  had  provided  for  this 
attention  on  the  professor's  part  by  springing  in  him- 
self, and  he  now  sat  bending  forward  as  if  to  see  that 
the  machine  was  in  order.  The  professor  relieved 
her  of  Bab  and  followed  her  down  the  steps  to  the 
car.  As  they  were  about  to  enter,  Nemo  rushed  for- 
ward and  with  a  bound  landed  on  the  floor  before 
the  back  seats,  as  there  was  no  room  for  him  in  front. 

"  Get  out,  Nemo,  you  naughty  dog !  Out,  out  this 
minute ! "  cried  Dorothy.  "  Why,  I  shall  have  to  get  a 
stick  and  give  you  a  beating  if  you  behave  so ! ' 

Lulu  laughed  as  Nemo  humbly  retreated.  But  the 
professor  cried:  "Oh,  Miss  Brooke,  don't  be  hard 
upon  him,  don't  treat  him  so  cruelly,  don't  beat  him ! 
He  only  wanted  to  be  near  you." 

"  Miss  Brooke,  don't  beat  your  dog,  I  beg  of  you, 

239 


24o      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

too — be  kind  to  him ! "  entreated  Ned  Longley  with 
face  and  voice  of  perfect  gravity  as  he  stood  beside 
the  car  until  it  should  start. 

"And  you  must  wonder  at  that,  Professor  Gris- 
wold — that  he  wants  to  be  near  me,"  Dorothy 
answered  in  a  stifled  tone,  with  a  glance  at  Ned  which 
was  almost  too  much  for  her  own  gravity.  "  No,  I 
promise  you  I  won't  beat  him,  since  you  ask  me  not 
to."  And  she  turned  away,  lest  her  face  should  betray 
her  sympathy  with  the  two  beside  her  shaking  with 
silent  laughter  and  with  Ned's  eyes  dancing  now  as 
he  watched  her. 

"Fine  dog-beater,  you  Doro!"  whispered  Rex 
when  he  could  get  his  breath.  "Mr.  Literal  may 
read  Greek,  but  he  can't  read  faces." 

Miss  Knowles  being  by  this  time  seated  with  the 
child  in  her  lap,  murmured  something  about  Miss 
Brooke  being  fond  of  her  dog. 

"  Oh,  is  she  ? "  returned  the  other  in  a  tone  of 
indifference  to  both  Dorothy  and  her  defender. 

"  Arctic  Circle  temperature  back  there ! "  commented 
Lulu  as  the  car  sped  on  and  she  knew  that  its  sound 
would  drown  her  voice. 

"  I  imagine  there's  some  internal  warmth  of  feeling 
though !  "  returned  Rex  in  the  same  key.  "  There's 
something  for  you,  Doro,"  he  added. 

"  For  me !  "  echoed  the  girl. 

"Yes;  for  you  and  Longley.  First-class  material. 
Make  a  study." 

"  No,  I've  not  been  abroad  since  the  summer  I  was 
at  the  Hewes  farm  for  the  first  time,"  they  heard  Miss 


NED    SIDES   WITH  DOROTHY        241 

Knowles  answering  her  companion.  "  You  were  there 
for  a  while,  too,  I  remember,"  she  went  on  coldly. 

"Oh,  yes,"  he  replied  in  an  equally  remote  tone, 
"  I  was  there."  Then  a  silence.  After  this,  another 
perfunctory  remark  on  one  side,  met  by  a  brief  reply 
on  the  other;  and,  again,  silence. 

"  They're  keeping  up  too  much  thinking  for  con- 
versation," commented  Rex  in  the  midst  of  his  talk 
with  the  two  girls  beside  him.  "  I  assure  you  it's  the 
hard  thinking  that  does  the  business." 

"  You're  evidently  learned  on  the  subject,"  smiled 
Lulu. 

He  gave  her  an  anxious  glance.  "  All  theory,  Miss 
Bromley,"  he  answered;  "nothing  but  school-boy 
emotions  to  draw  from — except,  perhaps,  a  touch  of 

Doro's  imagination.     But "     Suddenly,  he  ceased 

speaking  and  made  her  a  signal  of  silence.  Behind 
them  Bab  was  holding  forth;  she  was  not  fond  of 
silences. 

"  Unc !  unc ! "  she  cried,  reaching  up  for  him  to 
take  her,  which  he  did.  "  Unc !  unc !  'ou  play— play," 
she  repeated.  Then  finding  that  the  game  did  not 
come,  but  only  a  few  coaxing  words  instead,  she 
reached  up  and  pulled  his  hair.  He  submitted  and 
talked  to  her  softly,  but  still  without  the  romp  which 
the  child  desired.  After  a  time  she  reached  back  to 
Miss  Knowles,  and  as  she  passed  again  into  that  lady's 
keeping,  Bab  cooed  with  unusual  distinctness: 
"  Auntie !  auntie !  " 

At  this  endearment  poor  Miss  Knowles  turned  scar- 
let to  her  ears  as  she  made  room  for  the  child  beside 


242      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

her.  "  She  couldn't  say  my  name,"  she  murmured, 
"  and  when  she  said  '  mamma,'  it  seemed  to  remind 
her  that  her  mamma  was  not  there;  so,  we  had  to 
give  her  this — until  her  relatives  were  found." 

"  I  can  understand  how  glad  you  will  be  to  be  re- 
lieved of  it,"  he  answered  with  an  emphasis  he  had 
not  used  before. 

"The  word  came  to  her  so  naturally,  I  knew  she 
must  be  used  to  it,"  she  ventured  with  a  searching 
glance  at  him. 

But  he  did  not  turn  away  from  Bab  to  look  at  her 
as  he  answered  her.  "  She  had  never  used  it  before," 
he  said  with  elaborate  indifference. 

"  She  has  found  out  that  he's  not  married — yet," 
said  Dorothy  to  Lulu. 

Rex's  quick  ears  caught  her  words.  His  eyes 
gleamed  with  fun.  "So  far,  they're  afraid  of  each 
other,"  he  nodded.  "  But " 

"But  what?"  asked  his  sister. 

"  Wait  and  you'll  hear,"  he  answered  her.  "  It's 
worth  waiting  for." 

"The  more  it's  worth  waiting  for,  the  less  I  want 
to  wait,"  she  said. 

"I'm  sorry  for  you,"  he  retorted.  "Follow  Miss 
Bromley's  discreet  example." 

"But  she  is  doing  the  work  for  me,"  said  Lulu. 
"  If  she  hears,  I  shall  get  the  benefit  of  it.  You  see, 
I'm  deep." 

"  What  will  her  mamma  do  when  she  gets  her  ? " 
asked  Miss  Knowles  returning  to  the  safe  subject  of 
Bab. 


NED   SIDES   WITH  DOROTHY        243 

"  I'm  afraid  she  will  faint,"  answered  the  professor. 
"She  is  a  very  nervous  woman— emotional.  Didn't 
I  tell  you  of  her  health  that  summer?  "  he  asked.  "  The 
doctors  were  very  anxious  about  her." 

"  There  it  is!  I  told  you  you'd  hear,"  said  Rex  in 
an  undertone.  "They'll  hover  around  that  summer 
like  the  moths  round  the  candle." 

"Yes,  I  think  you  did,"  Miss  Knowles  was  say- 
ing-—" yes,  I  remember."  It  seemed  to  her  that  some- 
thing was  always  bringing  up  old  times,  however 
hard  they  both  tried  to  avoid  them.  Happily,  Rex's 
disrespectful  comparison  did  not  occur  to  her.  "  Is 
she  your  only  sister?"  she  added. 

"My  only  sister — and  no  brother.  I  told  you  this 
— but  you  have  forgotten — you  see  what  Bab  must 
be  to  me." 

"  Indeed,  I  do,"  answered  the  other.  "  Think  if  you 
had  lost  her !  "  And  she  gave  him  again  the  story  of 
Ned's  rescue  of  the  child.  Here  she  felt  herself  on 
safe  ground  and  she  was  more  at  ease  and  more  in- 
teresting and  gave  full  credit  to  Ned  for  his  daring. 
Rex's  side  glances  at  his  companions  were  expressive 
of  satisfaction. 

"  You  know  I  am  grateful  to  you  for  having  taken 
such  care  of  her,"  said  the  professor,  expanding  a 
little  in  the  warmth  of  her  narrative.  "  I— 

"Oh,  that  was  nothing,"  returned  Miss  Knowles. 
"She's  a  dear  little  thing;  and,  of  course,  I  didn't 
know  who  she  was." 

"  Certainly  not,"  retorted  her  hearer,  and  relapsed 
into  grim  silence. 


244      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

When  soon  afterward  they  arrived  at  Mrs.  Ridge- 
way's  house,  he  divested  Bab  of  her  wrappings,  sprang 
out  of  the  car  and  with  the  child  in  his  arms,  stood 
speaking  his  thanks  and  saying  farewell  to  his  hosts. 

"I'm  afraid  she'll  take  cold,"  said  Miss  Knowles 
after  a  moment.  "  She  was  so  bundled  up.'' 

The  professor  bowed  coldly  and  with  a  hasty  gen- 
eral good-by,  vanished  into  the  house.  "  She  has  had 
enough — too  much,  of  me  already,"  ran  his  thoughts. 

"  She  is  certainly  stupid,"  said  Dorothy  to  herself, 
"  that  is,  if  she  cares  for  him  at  all ;  and  I  rather  think 
she  does.  I  wish,  if  they  do  care  for  one  another, 
they'd  be  sensible.  But  I  suppose  that's  too  much  to 
expect.  I'm  coming  in  with  you,  Miss  Knowles,"  she 
said  aloud  as  she  changed  her  seat;  "there's  plenty 
of  room  in  here  now." 

"Yes,"  answered  the  other  gathering  together  the 
wraps  that  had  beeen  flung  down.  "  Professor  Gris- 
wold  is  a  very  strange  man,"  she  added.  "  I  used  to 
be  somewhat  acquainted  with  him  sometime  ago." 

"  I  think  he  is  very  nice,"  said  Dorothy.  And  the 
subject  was  changed. 

That  evening  Rex  and*  his  friends  sang  college 
songs;  and  Grace  and  Lulu  and  Ned  gave  solos  and 
duets.  It  was  when  everybody  but  themselves  had 
left  the  parlors  and  Dorothy  who  had  been  the  accom- 
panist sat  with  her  hands  fallen  on  the  keys  of  the 
piano,  that  as  the  company  was  about  to  break  up 
with  merry  good-nights,  Rex  said: 

"  Hold  on  a  minute.  About  that  play ;  if  we  don't 
have  it  very  soon,  we  can't  have  it  at  all — here.  The 


NED   SIDES   WITH   DOROTHY        245 

motor  car  is  back  in  good  order — thanks  to  Reid;  a 
reliable  chauffeur  will  be  here  Tuesday  at  latest.  Your 
mother  will  be  able  to  start  Wednesday — didn't  the 
doctor  say  that,  Longley  ?  "  Ned  assented.  "  And  she 
means  to  do  it,  I  heard  her  say  so,"  continued  Rex. 
"  This  is  Saturday  night.  We  must  give  the  affair 
Tuesday  evening  at  the  very  latest.  Then,  Wednes- 
day we'll  vanish  in  a  blaze  of  glory." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  about  the  blaze  of  glory,"  re- 
torted Ned.  "  The  thing  may  turn  out  a  fizzle." 

"  Not  if  you  and  Dora  use  your  opportunities,"  cried 
Rex  in  an  eager  tone  that  caught  the  attention  of  the 
whole  party.  "  Do  that,  and  the  thing  will  make  such 
a  hit  that  you'll  be  asked  to  bring  it  out  in  a  good 
many  other  places.  Why,  you  have  dramatis  per- 
sona all  made  to  order;  Mr.  Literal  and  Miss  Of- 
Course  would  make  the  fortune  of  anybody  who  knew 
how  to  use  them." 

Ned  laughed.  "I  believe  I've  caught  on  to  a  few 
points,"  he  said. 

"  I've  not  a  doubt  of  it.  And  so  has  Dorothy — look 
at  her !  And  we  have  here  fellows  " — and  he  turned 
to  his  classmates — "  who  can  do  anything  on  earth  in 
the  way  of  mimicking." 

"Anything  in  reason,  you  mean,  Brooke,"  put  in 
Norcross  with  assumed  modesty. 

"  Well,  we're  not  talking  of  things  out  of  reason, 
but  of  reproductions  of  reality.  You're  quite  up  to 
that." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  cried  the  college  boys  in  chorus. 

"  Try  us  and  we'll  do  our  best,"  added  Norcross. 


246      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"  That  we  will,  and  be  delighted  to,"  chimed  in  the 
others. 

"  So,  we're  all  right  on  the  men,"  said  Ned.  "  And 
as  to  the  women,  I  know  it's  in  Miss  Bromley,  and 
everybody  else." 

"Of  course— oh,  I  have  it!"  cried  Rex.  "Why 
can't  you  get  Miss  Of-Course  to  take  her  own 
part?" 

"  Ha !  ha !  I  never  heard  of  anything  so  good ! " 
declared  Ned.  "  I  don't  suppose  though,  that  peo- 
ple ever  do  act  out  themselves.  But  then,  she  won't 
know  it's  herself;  that'll  be  the  joke  of  it." 

"  Exactly,"  returned  Rex  approvingly.  "  And  the 
professor  can  be  done  brown.  We'll  invite  him,  and 
he'll  never  recognize  himself  either!  I  dare  say  they 
will  both  enjoy  the  play  famously — and  we  shall." 

"  You'll  make  it  a  howling  success,  you  two !  "  ex- 
claimed Norcross  standing  on  his  toes  in  his  excite- 
ment and  giving  Ned  an  encouraging  pat  on  the  back. 

"  Yes,  they  will,  if  they  do  as  I  want  them  to,"  said 
Rex.  "  Found  the  thing  on  fact,  and  burlesque  it  to 
the  point  of  absurdity;  you  only  want  a  farce,  you 
see." 

"And  you  will  give  me  a  part,  Miss  Brooke," 
pleaded  Raynor  edging  himself  toward  her. 

"  I'll  do  my  best,  Mr.  Raynor,"  she  answered.  "  But 
you  know,  if  the  thing  is  to  be  a  burlesque,  every- 
body's absurdities  will  have  to  be  in  it,  and  yours,  I 
suppose,  with  the  rest." 

For  an  instant  Raynor's  brow  darkened;  but  recol- 
lecting that  he  really  had  no  absurdities  that  he  had 


NED   SIDES   WITH   DOROTHY        247 

ever  been  able  to  discover,  he  assented  with  a  touch  of 
dignity,  and  stood  listening. 

"What  is  it  you  want  burlesqued,  Rex?"  asked 
Dorothy. 

"  Why,  we  have  the  story  from  Miss  Hewes,  or  all 
of  it  we  need ;  what  is  missing  will  give  scope  to  your 
imagination.  Now,  listen,  everybody,  to  the  ballad  of 
Miss  Of-Course  and  Mr.  Literal — and  the  dramatists 
will  put  in  the  variations:  Miss  Of-Course — it's  wise 
not  to  mention  names — after  Prof — I  mean,  after  Mr. 
Literal  had  been  introduced  to  her  the  previous  year 
— happily,  the  lady  was  quite  confidential  with  Miss 
Hewes'  mother — had  permitted  the  acquaintance  to 
ripen  to  a  friendship,  and  the  friendship  to  be  fanned 
into  a  warmer  flame  by  a  certain  little  blind  god  we 
wot  of.  Since  both  parties  are  good-looking,  the  blind- 
ness must  have  been  mental,  as  the  sequel  shows. 
When  Miss  Of-Course  came  to  the  house  where  Miss 
Hewes  was  two  summers  ago,  matters  seemed  about 
to  wind  themselves  up  satisfactorily.  The  prof — I 
mean,  Mr.  Literal — arrived  also  the  following  week, 
and  devoted  himself  assiduously  to  his  fair  neighbor; 
there  was  no  end  of  walks  and  drives,  and  boating — 
or  was  there  any  boating,  Miss  Hewes  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Rose. 

"  Well,  never  mind.  They  did  get  into  deep  water 
enough  after  a  while,  that's  certain.  As  I  was  saying, 
walks  and  drives,  and  always  talks,  never  on  any 
account  were  the  talks  omitted.  So  that,  at  last  the 
— Mr.  Literal  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  would  be 
good  if  he  and  Miss  Of-Course  could  arrange  to  talk 


248      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

forever  together;  when  he  didn't  have  his  classes  to 
lecture  to,  he  could  lecture  to  her  and  keep  in  practice." 

"  Rex — for  shame ! "  cried  Dorothy. 

"  Oh,  well,  I  didn't  mean  she  wasn't  to  do  any  of 
the  lecturing,"  admitted  the  young  man  contritely,  at 
which  a  shout  went  up  in  which  Dorothy  joined. 

Ned  stood  watching  her  as  she  every  now  and  then 
glanced  up  at  Raynor  who  attempted  to  talk  to  her 
persistently;  but  she  was  so  decidedly  occupied  with 
the  discussion  of  the  proposed  play  that  even  he  had 
to  be  silent  at  times.  He  still  held  his  place  beside  her, 
however,  with  an  air  of  possession  that  angered  her, 
until  she  saw  the  flash  in  Ned's  eyes;  then  it  amused 
her ;  she  had  not  come  to  the  point,  where  if  one  young 
fellow  spoke  to  her,  another  must  look  ready  to  chal- 
lenge him — and  she  was  not  coming  to  it. 

Priscy  was  watching  her  earnestly  as  the  talk  went 
on  and  Rex  Brooke  related  how  Mr.  Literal  and  Miss 
Of-Course,  as  he  was  careful  to  call  them,  had  fallen 
out  over  an  absence  of  the  gentleman  who  had  gone 
to  escort  a  lady  to  her  home — a  long  day's  journey. 
As  he  was  then  just  betrothed  to  Miss  Of-Course,  or 
at  least  about  to  be  so,  that  person  believed  that  she 
had  a  right  to  know  who  the  other  lady  was,  and  why 
he  deserted  Number  One,  even  for  a  time,  to  travel 
with  Number  Two?  He  was  sure  she  ought  to  take 
it  for  granted  that  he  was  right.  But  as  she  knew  that 
his  sister  was  ill,  his  mother  dead,  and  that  he  had 
no  first  cousins — so  he  had  told  her — who  was  the 
beautiful  and  mysterious  lady?  Miss  Hewes  says 
also  that  Miss  Of-Course  had  a  cousin  who  appeared 


NED    SIDES   WITH   DOROTHY        249 

suddenly  and  was  welcomed  with  warmth — to  Mr. 
Literal's  great  disapproval.  The  uncertainty  of  both 
as  regarded  the  other  became  a  line  of  separation ;  the 
line  widened  to  a  gulf,  and  had  so  remained,  and  would 
always  so  remain.  The  play  would  emphasize  the 
folly  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  the  separation  wider 
than  ever.  They  might  not  see  at  first  what  was  in- 
tended; but  they  would  inevitably  see  it  later,  and  be 
careful  not  to  make  fools  of  themselves  again.  It  would 
be  a  wholesome  lesson  for  them  if  they  ever  took 
it ;  if  not — why,  the  play  would  be  just  as  good. 

"Then,  you  don't  care  what  becomes  of  the  pro- 
fessor and  Miss  Knowles?  "  cried  Dorothy.  "You've 
no  interest  in  them  ?  " 

She  had  meant  the  question  for  Rex.  But  it  was 
Norcross  who  answered  suavely:  "Very  great  inter- 
est, artistically,  Miss  Brooke ;  broken  hearts  make  good 
songs,  you  know.  We  shall  not  hurt  them;  we  shall 
only  leave  them  as  we  found  them." 

"  That's  what  I  don't  want  to  do — leave  them  as 
they  are  now,  both  losing  the  happiness  of  their  lives 
over  a  mistake,  even  if  it  is  nonsense.  So  far  as  I 
have  to  do  with  this  play,  it  shall  help  them  to  an 
understanding.  I  may  not  succeed;  but  I  shall  try." 
She  flung  out  her  words  defiantly,  and  looked  at  Ned 
as  she  finished. 

"To  my  mind  Miss  Brooke  is  right  artistically," 
he  answered.  "  Don't  you  see  that  a  farce  must  end 
well?  Nothing  would  spoil  a  comedy  more  than  to 
put  in  a  tragic  element.  Yes,"  he  repeated,  "  I  am 
sure  she  is  right  artistically — as  well  as  in  another 


250      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

way.  I'm  on  Miss  Brooke's  side.  The  thing  will  be 
worked  up  so,  if  there  is  to  be  any  play,  if  you  will 
accept  the  best  we  can  do  on  the  lines  she  has  marked 
out." 

"  The  rest  of  us  are  not  in  it,"  growled  Rex.  Then 
he  laughed.  "  Have  it  your  own  way,"  he  said. 

Dorothy  was  silent,  but  none  the  less  appreciative 
of  the  advantage  of  a  coadjutor  who  understood  how 
things  should  be. 

(With  this  decision  everybody  said  good-night. 


XXIII 

A   GOOD  DAY'S   WORK 

"  How  fortunate  we  had  chosen  such  a  subject ;  it 
falls  in  so  well  with  the  suggestions  we  want  to  make 
to  those  two  poor  lovers,"  said  Dorothy. 

"  It  was  you  who  suggested  the  subject,  you  remem- 
ber," answered  Ned. 

"I  only  told  you,"  she  said,  "of  somebody  who 
used  to  be  always  saying  he  took  things  for  granted ; 
and  wondered  if  that  would  be  a  good  name?  You 
caught  at  it  and  did  the  rest." 

"  I  caught  at  it  because  it  was  so  good ;  and  we  did 
the  rest,"  corrected  the  other. 

The  two  were  sitting  under  a  tree  in  the  grove  at 
the  side  of  the  hotel,  where  they  hoped  that  nobody 
would  interrupt  them.  There  was  very  much  to  be 
done  that  Monday  morning  and  they  wanted  to  be 
undisturbed  and  to  do  it  well.  The  play :  "  Taking 
It  for  Granted''  had  originally  been  along  lines  that 
in  a  general  way  illustrated  the  very  errors  into  which 
the  professor  and  Miss  Knowles  must  have  fallen. 
Certain  details  could  be  added,  and  others  changed 
without  tearing  the  play  to  pieces. 

"  But  we  can't  put  in  those  things  like  patchwork," 
suggested  Dorothy. 

Her  companion  laughed.  "  We  won't,"  he  said. 

251 


252      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

It  was  not  unlikely  that  it  pleased  his  vanity  to  have 
her  suggest  difficulties  of  which  he  knew  how  to  make 
light  and  which  his  skill  settled  easily.  His  mind  was 
deeply  occupied  with  the  work  before  him,  and  Doro- 
thy sat  with  her  eyes  upon  the  page  in  her  hand,  her 
thoughts  full  of  how  to  add  both  clever  hits  and 
scenes  suggestive  to  the  two  for  whom  she  wanted  the 
play  to  be  not  only  an  amusement,  but  a  lesson,  and 
she  hoped  an  opening  to  reconciliation. 

"We  must  have  him  travel  with  'the  unknown 
lady,"  she  said  suddenly,  looking  up  at  Ned.  "  I  can 
see  that  for  them  things  will  have  to  be  made  as  big 
as  a  barn  door." 

They  laughed,  and  Ned  suggested  a  change  in  in- 
cident which  brought  into  prominence  something 
nearly  relating  to  the  desired  circumstances,  if  not 
identical.  "  And  we  can  do  this  also,"  he  said,  mak- 
ing another  change  even  more  pertinent. 

"  How  quick  you  are ! "  cried  the  girl.  "  Plots 
come  to  you  like  machinery  to  inventors.  I  can  never 
be  as  clever  as  you  are." 

"  And  how  about  the  conversations  ?  "  retorted  Ned. 
"You're  so  quick  and  so  strong  in  those;  I  could 
never  give  the  depth  and  sparkle  that  you  do." 

"Of  course,  you  could,"  returned  Dorothy,  well 
pleased  at  the  praise.  "  But  I  propose  that  we  stop 
complimenting  each  other  and  fall  to,"  she  said.  "  Or, 
since  I  like  compliments  of  that  kind  quite  as  well 
as  chocolate  caramels,"  she  added  smiling,  "  let's  re- 
serve them  until  we  see  what  comes  of  this.  Don't 
you  remember  the  saying  that  he  who  puts  on  his 


DEEPLY    OCCUPIED    WITH    THE    PLAY. 


A   GOOD   DAY'S   WORK  253 

harness  is  not  to  boast  himself  as  the  one  who  takes 
it  off?  The  fact  is,  I'm  nervous  over  this;  I'm  a  bit 
afraid  of  the  college  fellows — but  don't  tell  anybody." 

"  Not  I ! "  he  answered.  The  truth  was  that,  as 
Dorothy  had  divined,  he  himself  was,  at  least,  anxious 
over  these  same  critics.  He  expected  to  meet  these 
very  fellows  in  college  that  autumn  and  he  would 
like  immensely  the  blaze  of  glory  Rex  had  predicted, 
even  if  it  were  a  very  modest  blaze.  But  he  had  no 
intention  of  saying  this  to  his  companion.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  reassured  her,  declaring  that  it  ought  to  be 
a  stimulus  to  them  both ;  and  as  he  spoke,  his  assumed 
confidence  became  real.  They  did,  as  Dorothy  had 
suggested,  "  fall  to  "  with  a  will. 

The  morning  was  half  over  when  an  interruption  of 
several  of  the  other  members  of  their  party  broke  in 
upon  the  collaborators  most  unwelcomely. 

"How  goes  it?"  cried  Raynor  marching  up  beside 
Dorothy  and  standing  where  with  a  little  effort  he 
might  have  read  the  lines  she  had  been  writing.  She 
did  not  credit  him  with  intending  to  do  it,  but  she 
moved  her  paper  slightly.  What  made  him  act  as  if 
he  had  a  right  to  do  anything — even  overlook  her 
affairs? 

"  Please  go  away — everybody ! "  she  cried.  "  We've 
barely  time  to  get  ready  for  you  all  this  afternoon, 
anyway,  and  we  can't  waste  a  minute." 

"She  calls  it  wasting!"  exclaimed  Raynor  with  an 
assumption  of  offense. 

"  I'm  the  one  offended,"  retorted  Dorothy.  "  Rex, 
you  ought  to  know  better.  What  made  you  come?" 


254      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

She  addressed  her  brother;  but  her  glance  included 
all  the  others  also. 

"  Ingrates !  "  he  retorted.  "  We  came  to  tell  you 
that  there's  a  small  hand-printing  machine  here,  and 
you  can  get  the  parts  all  set  up  for  us  at  once.  They 
use  it  here  for  menus  and  a  few  other  things ;  so,  our 
programmes  can  be  done  on  it.  There  is  somebody 
here  who  knows  how  to  set  type,  and  we  may  borrow 
him  for  a  while — if  we'll  pay  for  him !  Now,  aren't 
you  grateful  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  returned  Ned.  "  That  youth  is 
already  hard  at  work  setting  up  the  First  Act.  So, 
you  see,  you  can't  borrow  him  on  any  account,  because 
I've  done  it — with  many  thanks  to  you  for  your  kind 
intentions,  let  me  add.  And,  if  you'll  pardon  us,  that's 
the  only  thing  we  want  to  add  just  at  present — really, 
Brooke." 

"  You're  spoiling  one  of  the  best  scenes  in  the  whole 
play!"  cried  Dorothy,  really  incensed,  and  showing 
it.  "  Those  who  will  know  how  to  act  the  best  in 
this  play  will  begin  to  act  now  by  pretending  that  they 
came  here  by  mistake  and  are  in  a  great  hurry  to 
go." 

"Don't  quite  cut  the  ground  from  under  our  feet, 
or  you  won't  leave  us  a  leg  to  stand  upon  when  we 
orate  and  gyrate,"  laughed  Norcross  turning  away 
with  Rex  who  looked  back  to  say:  "Miss  Bromley 
must  have  some  songs,  remember;  and  Norcross  a 
good  chance  to  mimic  somebody — we  can  guess  who 
it  is." 

Dorothy  had  noticed  that  Priscy  was  not  among 


A   GOOD   DAY'S   WORK  255 

the  others.  Since  the  interview  with  Colonel  Pell, 
and  her  father's  departure,  she  had  been  different, 
more  quiet,  and,  her  friend  perceived,  more  unhappy. 
But  at  that  moment  Dorothy  had  no  time  to  think 
even  of  Pell-Mell. 

Two  more  hours  of  hard  work  brought  the  play 
into  a  condition  where,  considering  it  as  an  amateur 
performance  and  taking  account  of  the  skill  of  the 
actors,  it  stood  a  chance  of  success.  It  required  only 
everyday  dressing;  and  the  scenery  found  in  the  hotel 
where  theatrical  amusements  were  not  unknown,  could 
be  made  to  answer.  The  great  difficulty  was  the  ex- 
ceedingly short  time  allowed  to  learn  the  parts;  but 
the  play  was  short,  there  were  a  good  number  of  parts, 
so  that  no  one  part  would  be  hard  to  memorize. 

"  And  if  they  don't  remember  exactly  what  we've 
said,"  added  Ned  as  they  talked  the  matter  over, 
"  they  are  capable  of  making  it  up." 

"  Just  what  I'm  afraid  of,"  returned  Dorothy.  "  I'm 
afraid  they'll  swing  it  round  out  of  the  purpose  we've 
tried  so  hard  to  hold  to." 

"  I  don't  think  any  one  would,"  said  Ned,  "  that  is, 
not  enough  to  really  matter.  We  must  allow  Norcross 
a  little  freedom;  I  suspect  that  when  he  starts  he 
can't  help  fun;  and  that'll  be  all  right.  Don't  be 
troubled.  Things  will  come  out  well.  We  always 
must  take  a  little  risk  in  everything,  you  know." 

Dorothy  looked  up  at  him  suddenly.  "I  never 
thought  of  it  before,"  she  answered.  "But  perhaps 
it's  the  necessity  there  is  for  always  taking  a  certain 
risk  in  whatever  we  do,  and  the  excitement  of  it,  that 


256      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

develops  too  strongly  in  certain  persons  and  makes 
them  gamblers?'* 

"  You  go  down  to  the  heart  of  things  sometimes," 
said  Ned.    "I  can't  answer  that." 
•    Wearied,  anxious,  yet  excited  and  inwardly  exultant, 
they  gathered  up  their  papers  and  went  in  to  luncheon. 

Copies  of  the  play,  "Taking  It  for  Granted"  hastily 
struck  off  and  with  many  typographical  errors,  but 
still  readable,  had  been  handed  to  those  who  were  to 
act  the  parts,  and  the  rehearsal  was  set  for  four  o'clock. 
Ned  had  taken  care  that  no  other  copies  should  be 
made,  for  he  had  watched  the  printer  make  pi  of  the 
type  and  had  taken  away  the  copy.  The  actors  scat- 
tered to  study  their  parts,  promising  to  be  on  time  at 
the  place  appointed,  which  was  in  the  woods  where 
Dorothy  and  Ned  had  spent  the  morning. 

"It  won't  be  like  your  school  play,  you  know," 
said  Ned  as  coming  back  from  a  talk  with  the  clerk  in 
the  office  with  whom  he  had  been  arranging  details  for 
the  following  evening,  he  sat  down  beside  Dorothy 
for  a  few  rninutes  to  rest  and  cool  off.  "  I  mean,"  he 
added,  "that  this  time  it  won't;  there's  too  much 
hurry.  I  hate  scrambles.  But  if  we  were  to  do  any- 
thing, it  had  to  be  immediately.  Some  day  we  will 
go  over  it  and  make  something  out  of  it,  I  hope.  The 
plot  is  very  simple.  But  don't  you  think  it  is  wise 
to  begin  so,  and  not  be  told  to  take  a  humbler  seat  ?  " 

"Indeed,  I  do,"  returned  the  girl.  "But  you  re- 
member what  they  said  at  school  about  something  of 
yours  that  was  not  simple  at  all,  but  quite  intricate 


A   GOOD   DAY'S   WORK  257 

and  had  great  force?  Don't  be  too  humble."  She 
paused  a  moment;  then  she  said  earnestly:  "You 
must  never  let  me  hold  you  back;  if  I  can't  do  the 
work  you  can — drop  me.  Your  work  mustn't  suffer. 
Be  sure  of  that." 

"  My  work  suffer  because  you  work  with  me ! "  he 

cried.  "  Why  don't  you  know "  He  stopped 

suddenly.  In  another  moment  words  would  have 
come  which  he  must  not  utter  now.  "  Don't  you  know," 
he  went  on,  by  an  effort  speaking  lightly,  "  that  work- 
ing with  you  inspires  me?  You  bring  new  thoughts, 
and  the  plots  we  go  over  together  just  bristle  with 
suggestions  when  I'm  with  you  and  when  I  think  them 
over  after  you've  gone?  It's  odd  you  don't  realize 
it." 

She  was  smiling  at  him  now,  her  beautiful  eyes 
full  of  light. 

"  That's  the  way  it  ought  to  be  with  collaborators," 
she  said.  Then  she  added :  "  But  don't  you  know  that 
when  one  loves  a  thing  as  much  as  I  do  this  work, 
one  is  apt  to  get  selfish  about  it  and  think  only  of 
one's  own  pleasure  and  forget  other  people's  rights  ?  " 

"  Not  you ! "  he  retorted  in  a  tone  more  earnest  than 
he  realized. 

Dorothy  flushed  a  little.  Then  she  said :  "  Don't 
deteriorate  into  a  flatterer,  will  you?  That  will 
spoil  work,  and  everything  else.  One  thing  I  espe- 
cially like  about  you  is  your  common  sense;  you 
don't  treat  me  like  a  doll;  but  like  a  comrade — a  col- 
laborator. Tell  me  everything  good  about  my  work 
that  you  like ;  I  know  I  have  a  capacity  for  large  doses 


258      DOROTHY  BROOKE'S   VACATION 

of  approval.  But  you  know  I'm  often  selfish;  and 
when  I  don't  show  it,  I  often  have  to  fight  myself 
tooth  and  nail  not  to  come  out  with  just  what  I  feel — 
that's  Dorothy ! " 

"  Exactly ! "  laughed  the  young  man.  "  You  mean 
to  say,  you're  not  too  sweet  and  good  for  human 
nature's  daily  food." 

"Not  original,  certainly,"  she  smiled;  "but  apt. 
And  now  I've  told  you  not  to  flatter,  I'll  turn  about 
and  ask  you  to  do  it!  How  do  you  like  that  song 
made  for  Lulu  ?  " 

"  If  I  dared,  I'd  say  it's  very  good,"  he  laughed. 

"  She  will  put  it  to  music  before  four  o'clock. 
You'll  see." 

"  You  are  a  loyal  friend,"  Ned  answered. 

"  I'm  not  successful  in  helping  my  friends  in  their 
troubles,"  she  said,  thinking  of  Pell-Mell. 

Among  the  last  of  the  group  to  assemble  at  the 
place  of  rehearsal  Norcross  sauntered  up. 

A  laugh  from  Rex  greeted  him.  "What  have  you 
been  doing  to  yourself,  old  man  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I'm  a  distinguished  person,"  replied  the  other  giv- 
ing a  twist  in  exact  mimicry  of  Professor  Griswold's 
nervous  fingers  to  a  bright  scarlet  necktie  which  he 
had  picked  up,  nobody  knew  where ;  "  I'm  a  man  of 
mark;  when  I  appear,  it's  a  red-letter  day." 

"  I  should  say  so,"  laughed  Ned.    "  But " 

"Oh,  I'll  drop  it  to-morrow  evening;  but  now  it's 
an  inspiration,  it  warms  me  up  to  the  part."  And 
he  continued  fingering  the  brilliant  tie.  "  Miss  Brom- 


A  GOOD  DAY'S  WORK  259 

ley,  come  and  sit  here  beside  me,  and  we'll  do  our 
billing  and  cooing,  and  work  up  to  our  tiffs  in  great 
style.  Then,  we  shall  have  to  make  up  again,  and 
be  more  affectionate  than  ever,"  he  went  on  with  an 
added  emphasis  as  he  observed  Rex's  frown. 

"  But  at  just  about  that  time  the  thing  ends," 
retorted  Lulu. 

"  Yes — just  about,"  he  repeated,  smiling  at  her 
teasingly. 

"  Where's  Nemo  ?  "  asked  Dorothy.  "  He  will  have 
to  be " 

"Licked  into  shape,  Miss  Brooke — that's  what  you 
do  with  your  dogs,  according  to  the  gentleman  here." 
And  Raynor  pointed  to  Norcross. 

"  I'm  to  do  the  licking,"  returned  Jimmy  appearing 
with  Nemo  in  tow.  "I'll  get  behind  the  scenes  and 
pull  the  ropes.  Nemo  minds  me  fairly  well.  I  think 
I  can  coach  him  a  bit." 

Dorothy^  nodded  at  him  with  a  smile.  She  had  been 
watching  Pell-Mell  and  trying  to  make  up  her  mind 
as  to  the  wisdom  of  something  that  she  had  almost 
resolved  to  do.  Except  for  the  singing,  she  believed 
that  Priscy  could  have  taken  the  leading  part  as  well 
as  or  better  than  Lulu.  But  Priscy  had  refused  every- 
thing except  the  role  of  Lulu's  friend,  which,  however, 
as  the  rehearsal  went  on,  Dorothy  perceived  was  to 
become  a  spirited  one  in  such  hands. 

Having  so  many  actors  "  ready-made,"  as  Ned  put 
it,  the  dramatists  had  not  to  cut  down  the  number  of 
parts.  Of  the  collegians,  Raynor  was  the  least  skillful, 
and  Norcross  the  best — perfection,  indeed,  if  he  did 


2<5o      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

not  overdo  his  part  and  weaken  the  effect  by  too  much 
burlesque.  "He's  on  his  high  horse  to-day,"  Ned 
assured  his  collaborator  when  she  confided  to  him  her 
misgivings;  "the  freedom  of  the  woods  stirs  in  him. 
But  you'll  see  that  before  an  audience  he  will  tone 
down  a  bit;  I'm  sure  of  it.  A  little  exuberance  is 
fine  though — just  what  we  want." 

They  were  all  walking  home  together  after  a  prom- 
ising rehearsal.  Dorothy  still  had  misgivings,  how- 
ever; but  hereafter  she  told  them  to  one  person  only 
— herself. 

"We  wanted  Mrs.  Longley's  judgment.  But  I 
suppose  she  couldn't  come  without  bringing  Miss  Of- 
Course — I  beg  pardon, — Miss  Knowles,"  corrected 
Rex. 

But  on  reaching  the  hotel  a  great  and  pleasant  sur- 
prise awaited  them.  Mrs.  Longley  and  Miss  Knowles 
were  on  the  veranda,  and  with  them  a  guest. 

"Think  of  an  angel "  quoted  Pell-Mell  softly 

with  a  smile  at  Norcross. 

"  Can  I  do  '  an  angel '  successfully?  "  he  inquired. 

As  they  all  came  up  the  steps,  Dorothy  separated 
herself  from  the  others  and  went  to  the  telephone. 


XXIV 

JIMMY  HAS  AN   IDEA 

HAPPINESS  had  revived  Mrs.  Ridgeway  in  a  great 
degree.  But  the  shock  of  Bab's  disappearance  had 
been  so  severe  that  she  had  not  yet  recovered  her 
strength  sufficiently  to  thank  in  person  the  rescuer  of 
her  child  and  those  who  had  been  so  good  to  the  little 
one  while  she  was  a  stray  baby.  She  feared  that  her 
brother  had  not  done  this  with  sufficient  gratitude 
and  she  questioned  him  more  than  once  as  to  what 
he  had  really  said. 

"  You  see,  you're  so  absent-minded,  John,"  she 
explained.  "  Half  the  time  you  don't  know  what 
you're  saying  while  you're  saying  it,  and  you  can  never 
tell  ten  minutes  afterward — unless  it's  something  out 
of  a  book,  then  I'd  trust  you  any  time.  Really,  now, 
what  did  you  say  ?  "  she  asked  him  for  perhaps  the 
dozenth  time. 

"Suppose  I  go  and  try  it  over  again?"  suggested 
Professor  Griswold,  "  I  can  say  I've  come  especially 
to  bring  your  messages." 

"  Oh,  John,  how  good  of  you !  I  should  be  so  glad 
to  go  myself  if  only  I  were  strong  enough.  But  if 
you  go  on  purpose,  and  so  have  it  on  your  mind,  I 
know  you  will  do  it  splendidly;  you  can.  And  you 
really  are  unselfish  when  you  wake  up  to  a  thing," 
enthused  his  sister. 

261 


262      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"No,  no,"  returned  the  professor  decidedly.  The 
fact  was  that  there  seemed  to  him  nothing  on  earth 
which  he  wanted  so  much  to  do  as  to  go  again  to  the 
place  where  he  had  found  his  small  niece  and  thank 
over  again  all  the  persons  who  had  been  good  to  her, 
especially  one.  That  one,  he  realized,  should  have  been 
Ned  who  had  rescued  her  from  death  and  made  all 
other  kindnesses  possible.  But,  strange  to  say,  it  was 
not  Ned,  but  the  woman  who  had  received  him  coldly 
and  parted  from  him  still  more  coldly,  yet  whom  it 
seemed  as  if  he  would  give  his  life  to  see  again.  And, 
after  all,  what  harm  could  that  do?  To  her — none. 
Whatever  had  once  been  between  them,  and  he  re- 
membered too  well  everything  that  had  once  been, 
there  was  at  present  on  her  part  absolute  indifference. 

In  that  last  drive  to  A he  had  referred  over  and 

over  to  the  past,  his  heart  beating  fast  with  anxiety 
as  he  waited  for  her  response.  But  it  had  seemed  to 
him  that,  for  all  the  emotion  she  felt,  hers  did  not 
beat  at  all.  Surely,  whatever  had  been  was  over  and 
done  with.  Then  what  good  in  reviving  his  old 
pain?  He  had  in  these  years  been  able  to  repress  it, 
but  it  had  never  died.  For  her  sake  he  would  live  a 
lonely  life;  he  had  not  tried  to  put  away  the  thought 
of  her ;  her  memory  had  been  to  him  a  beautiful  vision, 
for  all  the  pain  it  had  brought.  But  now  when  he 
had  not  dreamed  of  meeting  her,  here  she  was.  He 
would  rather  suffer  all  that  her  presence  brought  him 
than  not  see  her  again. 

But  he  would  not  betray  himself;  he  would  keep 
his  pride.  There  should  be  no  wooing,  or  suggestion 


JIMMY    HAS   AN   IDEA  263 

of  it.  As  to  feeling  on  her  side,  he  assured  himself 
again  that  there  was  none,  that  she  was  not  for  him 
or  against  him,  that  in  any  such  way  as  he  was  think- 
ing of,  he  no  longer  existed  for  her.  Therefore,  to 
see  her  would  trouble  himself  only ;  and  it  was  a  hun- 
dred times  better  than  the  torture  of  keeping  away 
from  her  when  she  was  so  near.  Fate  had  opened 
the  way  and  given  him  a  reason  for  going  to  her 
without  betraying  his  love  to  her.  If  in  any  respect 
he  deserved  his  sister's  praise  for  unselfishness,  it  was 
not  for  carrying  her  messages  to  Bab's  friend ;  he  was 
only  too  grateful  for  such  good  excuse  to  face  once 
more  the  woman  he  still  loved.  He  would  see  her  to- 
day. He  would  not — he  could  not — think  of  to- 
morrow. 

He  had  joined  the  two  ladies  where  he  had  found 
them,  each  with  her  book.  He  had  inquired  for  the 
others  of  the  party  and  had  been  readily  persuaded  to 
await  their  coming  to  deliver  his  messages  in  person. 
Mrs.  Longley  had  proposed  that  she  go  and  tell  them 
of  his  arrival  which  would  bring  them  back  as  soon 
as  the  rehearsal  was  over;  otherwise,  it  was  possible 
that  they  might  linger.  She  was  secretly  anxious  to 
go  because  she  had  been  told  that  they  wanted  her 
there,  if  they  could  get  her  without  Miss  Knowles. 
This  was  her  opportunity.  She  said  that  she  would 
not  be  gone  long  and  Miss  Knowles  and  the  profes- 
sor would  wait  here  for  her. 

"  Oh,  no,  we'll  come,  too,"  announced  Miss  Knowles 
half  rising. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  can't  ask  you,"  returned  Mrs.  Long- 


264      DOROTHY  BROOKE'S   VACATION 

ley  with  her  most  affable  smile.  "  It's  a  rehearsal,  you 
see,  and  I'm  sure  that  the  young  people  would  be 
embarrassed  by  an  audience;  they  don't  consider  me 
anybody,  you  know.  I'm  really  quite  sure  it  wouldn't 
do  to  have  you  come." 

"  We  shall  come  if  you  do,"  retorted  Miss  Knowles 
with  an  air  of  finality  that  caused  the  other  to  sink 
back  into  her  seat  at  once  and  make  no  further  attempt 
at  any  excuse  to  leave  them  to  that  solitude  of  two 
which  in  certain  contingencies  is  so  desirable. 

The  professor  had  been  chilled  by  this  refusal  of  the 
woman  he  adored  to  stay  alone  with  him  a  few  min- 
utes. Did  she  think  he  would  make  love  to  her? 
Nothing  could  be  further  from  his  thoughts;  he  did 
not  deserve  to  be  distrusted.  But  this  was  what  he 
had  long  been  by  her. 

He  was  enough  a  man  of  the  world,  however,  to 
conceal  his  chagrin  and  carry  on  with  the  ladies  a  con- 
versation upon  indifferent  topics,  although  Mrs.  Long- 
ley  who,  like  the  young  people,  was  on  the  alert  for 
evidences  of  the  state  of  feeling  between  the  two 
detected  a  reserve  in  his  manner  toward  Miss 
Knowles.  That  lady  herself  was  not  slow  to  perceive 
the  same  thing,  and  to  attribute  it  to  a  determination 
to  show  her  that  the  past  was  indifferent,  if  not  dis- 
tasteful to  him.  He  should  not  find  her  more  ready 
to  recall  it  by  word  or  manner. 

Thus,  the  hours  they  spent  together  that  day  served 
rather  to  further  alienate  them  than  to  lessen  the  gulf 
of  separation  between  them.  Mrs.  Longley  thought 
that  they  could  not  do  worse,  and  they  might  do  better, 


JIMMY    HAS   AN   IDEA  265 

could  they  be  left  alone  to  settle  matters.  But  she 
knew  that  if  she  went  away,  Miss  Knowles  in  her 
present  mood  would  certainly  follow  and  leave  the 
professor  to  himself.  So,  she  sat  still. 

But  it  was  with  great  satisfaction  that  she  finally 
perceived  coming  along  the  path  from  the  woods 
Priscy  Pell  and  Mr.  Norcross,  followed  by  all  the 
others. 

Ned  greeted  Professor  Griswold  with  great  cor- 
diality. "  How  good  of  you  to  come  to  see  us,"  he 
said  to  him.  "  How  is  the  little  one  after  her  travels  ? 
And  how  is  her  mamma — Mrs.  Ridgeway,  I  be- 
lieve?" 

"We "  began  Rex  coming  forward  to  shake 

hands,  when  Ned  behind  him  gave  his  coat  a  twitch 
that  changed  the  proposed  sentence  to  a  harmless  wel- 
come. 

"  Don't  ask  him  before  her,"  he  said  aside  a  moment 
later.  "  If  you  do,  ten  to  one,  she  won't  come.  It's 
a  case  for  diplomacy.  We  must  get  him  off  by  himself 
somehow." 

"  No  wonder  you  can  make  up  plots ! "  retorted  Rex 
in  the  same  tone.  "But  I'll  look  out;  I  don't  want 
to  spoil  sport." 

All  but  one  insisted  that  the  professor  should  stay 
to  dinner,  and  Rex  offered  to  motor  him  to  the  even- 
ing train  to  A .  The  one  who  did  not  join  in 

the  invitation  withheld  what  would  have  been  more 
to  him  than  all  the  other  voices  together.  He  looked 
toward  her,  hearing  her  silence  more  clearly  than  the 
speech  of  the  rest.  But  she  was  watching  Rose  Hewes 


266   DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

looking  at  the  sky  warm  with  sunset  color,  and  did 
not  see  him,  unless  with  that  perception  of  the  soul 
that  sees  without  eyes. 

Yes;  the  professor  would  be  happy  to  stay  to  din- 
ner; at  least,  he  reflected,  he  should  see  a  little  more 
of  her.  But  afterward  he  found  that  he  had  reckoned 
vainly  upon  this;  for  Miss  Knowles  disappeared  and 
did  not  return  until  they  were  all  at  the  table. 

"  Now,  pitch  in ! "  said  Ned  as  he  and  Rex  caught 
the  last  glimpse  of  her  white  gown  vanishing  through 
the  doorway.  "  Put  it  as  strong  as  you  like,  only,  you 
know,  these  absent-minded  people  sometimes  wake  up 
suddenly;  they  can't  be  trusted  too  far  not  to  see 
anything." 

So,  the  professor  was  informed  about  the  forthcom- 
ing play,  that  is,  he  was  partially  informed,  and 
accepted  with  pleasure.  He  would  be  promptly  on 
hand  the  following  evening,  and  train  and  convey- 
ance were  carefully  arranged,  Ned  congratulating  him- 
self that  this  could  be  done  face  to  face  instead  of  by 
telephone  as  they  had  planned,  and  apologizing  for 
not  asking  Professor  Griswold  to  dinner  the  evening 
of  the  play ;  they  would  all  be  so  busy. 

"We  mustn't  give  Miss  Knowles  all  that  time  for 
preparation,"  he  confided  later  to  Dorothy,  who  en- 
joyed his  cleverness  immensely. 

During  dinner  the  professor  looked  at  Miss 
Knowles,  if  he  had  little  opportunity  to  talk  with  her. 
And  he  went  home  telling  himself  that  he  had  one 
more  time  of  at  least  a  few  hours  to  see  her — if  it 
were  the  last,  this,  at  any  rate,  would  be  assured. 


JIMMY    HAS    AN   IDEA  267 

Meantime,  word  was  passed  around  among  the  cir- 
cle not  to  let  Miss  Of-Course  get  an  inkling  that  Mr. 
Literal  was  coming;  and  she  did  not. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Jimmy  Reid  that  same  evening. 
"  It's  the  very  thing  to  do.  If  Dorothy  doesn't  know 
it,  she  ought  to.  Why,  she's  sensible,  Grace.  Of 
course,  she'll  see  it.  The  family  need  the  money  and 
this  is  the  best  way  to  get  it;  and  it's  legitimate,  too, 
or  I  wouldn't  want  to  do  it.  I  will  take  all  the  trouble, 
whatever  that  is — not  much.  I  wish  you'd  talk  with 
her  about  it." 

"You  can  do  that  ever  so  much  better  than  I, 
Jimmy.  What  does  Ned  say?" 

"  I  haven't  asked  him ;  he'll  be  all  right,  I  know. 
It's  only  Dorothy  who  may  kick.  But  I  don't  think 
she  will.  Just  try  her.  Please  do."  Then  he  went 
on  with  a  slightly  injured  air  which  he  had  had  ex- 
perience was  somewhat  hard  for  Grace  to  resist :  "  I 
thought  my  idea  was  splendid;  I  was  proud  of  it;  I 
didn't  know  I  was  to  be  snubbed  in  this  way — and 
by  you  of  all  people,  Grace." 

"Oh,  Jimmy!"  exclaimed  the  girl.  "You  know  I 
never  snub  you ;  you  know  I  always  think  your  ideas 
are  good." 

"What's  that  about  snubbing?"  inquired  a  voice 
as  its  owner  came  from  out  of  doors  where  he  had 
just  returned  with  Rex  from  taking  the  professor  to 
the  train,  and  walked  up  to  the  speakers  who  were 
standing  in  the  hall.  "  My  sister  snubbing  my  best 
friend!  You  must  have  been  doing  something  aw- 


268      DOROTHY  BROOKE'S  VACATION 

fully  wrong,  Reid;  for  Grace  is  the  embodiment  of 
charity." 

"  I  want  you  to  help  me  out,"  returned  the  boy. 
"  I've  not  been  doing  anything — yet ;  I'll  tell  you  what 
I've  been  proposing."  And  he  did. 

"  I'm  on  your  side,"  said  Ned ;  "  and  we'll  give  the 
snubbing  to  Grace."  He  turned  to  her  and  said  in 
the  softened  tone  in  which  he  so  often  spoke  to  his 
sister:  "Grade,  do  run  and  find  Dorothy  and  bring 
her  here.  Jimmy  is  right,"  he  added.  "And  if  the 
thing  is  to  be  done,  this  evening  is  the  best  time  to 
start  it;  we  can  finish  up  to-morrow  morning  what's 
left  over,  which  means  the  people  we  can't  get  at  to- 
night." 

"  She's  in  the  parlor ;  she's  just  been  playing,"  said 
Grace.  "  Now  she  is  going  to  listen  to  Miss  Wind- 
sor's singing."  And  she  peeped  in.  "I  can  see  her 
from  here,"  she  added. 

"  Well,  seeing  is  not  enough  in  this  case.  We'll 
have  to  interview  her  straight  off." 

Grace  disappeared  obediently,  and  returned  with 
Dorothy  in  tow. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  the  latter.  "More  plots? 
Anything  wrong?"  And  she  glanced  anxiously  from 
Jimmy  who  stood  smiling,  to  Ned  whose  eyes  were 
a  trifle  questioning  as  he  watched  her  approach.  As 
she  reached  them  he  nodded  to  his  companion  who 
as  the  projector  of  the  proposed  scheme,  had  the  right 
of  way. 

"  You  know  the  Walker  family  are  awfully  poor  ?  " 
began  that  young  diplomat. 


JIMMY    HAS   AN   IDEA  269 

"  I  do,"  returned  the  girl ;  "  and  astonishingly  igno- 
rant, too.  Rose  has  been  trying  to  teach  them  a  few 
things  about  housekeeping;  she's  been  lovely  in  giv- 
ing time  that  she  might  have  spent  spinning  over  this 
beautiful  country  in  the  sunshine." 

"Miss  Brooke  has  been  giving  and  doing  a  few 
things  to  help  on,  too,"  remarked  the  boy,  eying  her 
steadily.  And  at  Dorothy's  assurance  that  it  was 
precious  little  that  she  had  done,  he  added :  "  I  think 
you'd  like  to  do  more — and  I  know  a  way." 

"  What  is  it  ? "  asked  Dorothy,  her  head  the  least 
bit  tilted  back  and  her  eyes  meeting  Jimmy's  with  a 
gaze  not  less  steady,  and  with  a  touch  of  suspicion 
mingled  with  its  questioning,  as  if  she  were  half 
afraid  of  being  trapped  in  some  manner  by  the  very 
clever  fellow  who,  evidently,  wanted  something  of 
her  which  he  was  not  sure  of  getting.  Then  she 
glanced  at  his  two  companions  whose  eyes  were  also 
fixed  upon  her.  Surely,  they  were  not  good  co- 
adjutors if  Jimmy  had  malice  in  his  mind.  "Well, 
what  is  it?"  she  repeated. 

"A  money-making  scheme,"  he  answered,  smiling. 

"That's  all  that  goes  down  nowadays,"  retorted 
Dorothy  with  the  air  of  a  cynic  of  sixty. 

"We're  thinking  of  putting  it  up,"  he  said,  smil- 
ing still  more  broadly.  "  All  the  people  here  who  are 
coming  to  the  play  can  well  afford  to  pay  a  fair  ad- 
mission fee,  and  that  money  will  give  the  Walkers 
some  substantial  comforts." 

Dorothy  looked  caught,  as  she  was,  on  the  horns  of 
a  dilemma.  "Yes,  it  would,"  she  said  hesitatingly. 


270      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"  But  I  don't  think  it's  nice  one  bit  to  charge  any  one 
for  seeing  that  little  play.  We  mean  that  in  itself  to 
be  a  benevolent  scheme,"  she  added,  with  a  sudden 
smile,  gone  as  suddenly.  "  It  seems  like  professional 
work  to  do  this — even  for  a  good  purpose  and  not  at 
all  for  ourselves." 

"  I  thought  we  intended  to  do  professional  work 
some  day — in  fact,  as  soon  as  we  could  get  into  it," 
asserted  Ned. 

"  Then,  I  needn't  ask  which  side  you're  on,"  said 
Dorothy ;  "  and  you,  certainly,  have  half  the  right  to 
say  what  shall  be." 

"  I  waive  it,  as  you  know,"  he  answered.  "  I  was 
only  reminding  you." 

"  Thank  you.  Let  me  think  a  minute."  She  stood 
with  her  head  bent.  Suddenly,  she  lifted  it  and  looked 
at  Jimmy,  the  corners  of  her  mouth  twitching.  "  How 
much  admission  fee  are  you  going  to  ask  ?  "  she  said. 

They  all  laughed.  "The  most  I  can  get,"  he  re- 
turned. "  What  do  you  say  to  it  ?  " 

"Til  say  'yes'  if  Mrs.  Longley  does.  Please  go 
and  ask  her."  And  she  turned  to  Ned. 

He  went  at  once  to  his  mother  whom  they  could 
see  in  the  further  corner  of  the  great  parlor. 

Almost  immediately  he  came  back.  "That's  her 
answer,"  he  announced,  and  opening  his  hand  he  dis- 
played the  price  of  a  ticket  "  She  gave  me  this,"  he 
added.  "  I'll  pass  it  over  to  the  treasurer."  And  he 
gave  it  to  Jimmy. 

"Since  she  says  'yes,'  I  will,"  declared  the  girl. 
Watching  Ned  making  his  way  back  to  them  with 


JIMMY    HAS   AN   IDEA  271 

his  message,  the  thought  had  come  to  her  that  if  it 
had  been  Mr.  Raynor,  or  Mr.  Winder,  who  had  been 
sent,  she  might  have  suspected  some  trick  in  this 
prompt  and  effective  reply.  But,  whatever  his  mis- 
takes and  faults,  she  could  always  trust  Ned. 

It  turned  out  that  Jimmy  was  like  the  person  in 
the  old  saw;  asking  advice,  he  had  meant  approba- 
tion, and  had  made  ready  for  it  by  having  had  tickets 
printed  with  the  name  of  the  play  and  the  date  and 
price  of  admission.  It  was  not  much  of  a  risk,  he 
said,  if  they  had  not  been  used. 

With  a  few  apt  words  to  the  guests  of  the  house 
assembled  in  the  parlors  concerning  the  very  needy 
family  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  hotel  and  the  state- 
ment that  the  proceeds  of  the  play  were  to  go  to  this 
family,  Jimmy's  tickets  sold  with  magic  swiftness, 
until  he  was  left  with  less  than  a  dozen  in  hand,  and 
these,  and  perhaps  more,  were  sure  to  go  the  follow- 
ing morning  to  some  not  present  that  evening.  This 
was  the  last  touch  needed  to  popularize  the  play.  It 
succeeded. 

A  few  minutes  before  the  curtain  rose,  Dorothy 
was  seated  in  the  audience  beside  Miss  Knowles  with 
an  occasional  word  to  her  and  an  anxious  eye  for 
every  comer  who  entered  the  door. 

Ah !  there  he  was  at  last !  And  but  for  her  strategy, 
there  would  not  have  been  a  seat  anywhere  near  Miss 
Knowles.  Rose  Hewes,  one  of  the  ushers  and  well 
instructed  in  her  duties,  came  up  the  aisle  piloting 
Professor  Griswold  and,  apparently,  looking  here  and 
there  for  a  seat  for  him. 


272      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

As  they  reached  her,  Dorothy  rose  and  greeted  the 
professor.  "  Take  this  place,"  she  said  to  him,  and 
on  his  refusal,  added :  "  Really,  you  are  not  taking 
my  seat;  I  was  only  speaking  to  Miss  Knowles  a  mo- 
ment. I  must  go  behind  the  scenes.  I  may  not  be 
out  again  all  the  evening;  and  if  I  do  come,  I  shall 
take  a  seat  close  by  the  stage.  So,  it's  you,  or  some- 
body else.  Why  not  you?  Haven't  you  come  all  the 

way  from  A just  to  see  and  hear?  You  ought 

to  have  a  good  place.  So,  sit  down,  please.  And, 
please,  excuse  me." 

Thus  it  was  that  side  by  side  Miss  Knowles  and 
the  professor  watched  the  play  which  might,  or  might 
not,  make  its  personal  appeal  to  themselves. 

As  Dorothy  was  passing  up  the  aisle  she  saw  two 
other  guests  enter  the  room.  She  hastened  to  greet 
them,  and  asked  Rose  to  give  them  the  two  seats 
she  had  reserved. 


XXV 

"TAKING  IT  FOR  GRANTED" 

ALMOST  all  the  guests  in  the  hotel,  which  was  full, 
assembled  to  see  the  play  written  by  two  young  per- 
sons whom  they  had  met  and  liked,  and  to  be  acted 
in  part  by  collegians  at  whose  fun  they  had  often 
laughed.  The  audience  was  in  fine  humor  and  ready 
to  make  allowance  for  the  work  of  amateurs  and  of 
amateurs  who  had  had  scanty  time  for  preparation. 
It  was  a  good  deal  to  be  able  to  go  to  the  theatre  at 
all  at  the  heights  of  a  mountain  resort. 

So  that  it  was  under  favorable  auspices  that  there 
was  presented  the  comedy  of: 

TAKING  IT  FOR  GRANTED 

DRAMATIS     PERSONS : 

Mr.  Graham,  in  love  with  Laura  Carew. .  .Mr.  Norcross 

Mr.  Murray,  in  love  with  Kitty  Parker Mr.  Brooke 

Mr.  Vorse,  Laura  Carew's  cousin Mr.  Raynor 

Mr.  Sims,  in  love  with  Laura  Carew     Mr.  Winder 

Miss  Laura  Carew,  in  love  with  Mr.  Graham 

Miss  Lulu  Bromley 

Miss  Kitty  Parker,  in  love  with  Mr.  Graham 

Miss  Grace  Longley 
Miss  Anna  Achers,  friend  of  Miss  Laura  Carew. . . 

Miss  Priscy  Pell 
SCENE — Large  summer  hotel. 

273 


274      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S   VACATION 

ACT  I 

SCENE  I — Veranda  of  hotel:  MR.  GRAHAM  and  Miss 
CAREW,  in  conversation: 

MR.  GRAHAM:  I  took  it  for  granted  you'd  be  here, 
Miss  Carew;  you're  always  so  fond  of  out-of-door  life. 

Miss  CAREW  (smiling)  :  Unless  you  had  found  me  in 
the  woods,  Mr.  Graham.  I'm  so  fond  of  the  open  air 
and  the  country. 

MR.  GRAHAM  (seating  himself  beside  her)  :  I  never 
forget  that,  Miss  Carew — Laura ;  indeed,  I  never  forget 
any  of  your  tastes  and  likes.  Your  love  of  the  country 
is  so  natural  and  wholesome,  it  would  be  well  if  all  were 
like  you;  but  of  the  people  here,  I'm  sure  many  come 
only  because  it's  the  fashion.  I  despise  affectation.  But 
you  are  always  sincere. 

LAURA  (casting  down  her  eyes)  :  I  endeavor  to  be, 
Mr.  Graham. 

MR.  GRAHAM:  It's  no  effort  to  you  to  be  true — 
Laura. 

(Enter  Nemo,  wagging  his  tail  and  looking  up  at 
Laura,  who  caresses  him  fondly,  while  Graham  watches 
her.) 

LAURA  (still  patting  Nemo)  :  What  a  splendid  dog, 
Mr.  Graham! 

MR.  GRAHAM:  The  thought  of  you  and  of  your 
wishes  is  with  me  always;  I  try  to  do  what  will  please 
you.  I  believe  you  will  find  that  in  one  respect,  at 
least,  I  have  done  so. 

LAURA:  You  are  very  kind,  Mr.  Graham.  But  why 
should  you  try  to  please  me?  There  are  others  whose 
fancies  are  much  more  worthy  of  consideration. 
(Aside.)  That  ought  to  make  him  say  something  kind! 


"TAKING   IT    FOR    GRANTED"        275 

GRAHAM  (with  emphasis) :  And  who  are  they, 
Laura  ? 

LAURA:  One  is  the  charming  Miss  Parker,  who,  I 
can  see,  interests  you — and  whom  you  interest,  Mr. 
Graham.  (Aside.)  What  will  he  say  to  that? 

GRAHAM  :  Miss  Parker !  Ah !  Ye — es,  she  is  an  in- 
teresting young  lady;  but  somewhat  too  vivacious  for 
my  taste. 

LAURA  (laughing  and  glancing  at  him)  :  I'm  afraid 
I  shall  have  to  challenge  your  taste,  then,  Mr.  Graham. 

GRAHAM  :  If  you  do  this,  it  is  the  height  of  modesty ; 
for  you  must  know,  Miss — Laura — that  in  all  respects 
you  are  my  taste.  The  more  I  see  of  you,  the  more 
deeply  do  I  feel  this.  (He  draws  nearer  and  gazes 
fondly  at  her;  there  is  a  moment's  silence;  she  devotes 
herself  still  more  affectionately  to  Nemo.}  I  shall  never 
come  to  feel  myself  worthy;  I  am  as  near  that  now  as 
I  ever  shall  be.  (He  draws  still  closer  and  lays  his  hand 
on  hers,  -which  is  not  -withdrawn.  With  deep  emotion.) 
Laura,  will  you  be 

(Approaching  -voices  and  steps;  he  pauses;  both  start 
apart.  Enter  Mr.  Murray  and  Miss  Parker,  walking 
rapidly  toward  them;  when  she  reaches  the  bench,  Kitty 
throws  herself  down  beside  Laura  and  begins  to  pat  the 
dog  who  greets  her.) 

KITTY:  Well!  I  took  it  for  granted  I  should  find 
you  hobnobbing  here.  What  else  but  hobnob  can  one 
do  at  a  summer  hotel?  Do  look  here,  Mr.  Murray; 
Miss  Carew  is  perfectly  devoted  to  Nemo!  It  must  be 
a  case  of  "love  me,  love  my  dog."  (She  laughs.) 

LAURA  (drawing  back)  :  Your  dog,  Mr.  Murray? 
Oh,  I  didn't  know.  I  thought 

KITTY  (laughing)  :  Ha!  ha!  ha!  I'll  wager  anything 
you  thought  'twas  Mr.  Graham's  dog — come,  now,  didn't 
you?  (Looks  at  her  teasingly  and  laughs  again.) 


276      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

LAURA  (embarrassed  and  angry}  :  I  thought  it  was  a 
handsome  dog;  and  I'm  always  fond  of  those.  Of 
course,  I  didn't  know  whose  it  was — never  asked,  or 
cared. 

KITTY:  No,  indeed!  A  part  of  your  fondness  for 
country  pleasures! 

MURRAY  (to  Graham}  :  By  the  way,  let  me  congrat- 
ulate you  on  your  late  purchase  of  that  fine  estate.  It 
was  a  great  bargain,  I  hear;  and  it's  a  charming  home 
to  offer  any  woman.  (He  looks  with  a  smile  at  Miss 
Carew  who  stares  back  at  him  in  deep  indignation  and 
rises  as  if  to  withdraw.} 

KITTY:    Oh,  don't  let  us  interrupt  you,  pray!    We're 
on  the  way  to  the  pool — I  mean,  the  real  pool,  not  the 
card  one!    Come,  Mr.  Murray.     (They  sweep  off.} 
GRAHAM    (to  Laura}  :     Pray,   sit  down — Laura — — • 
LAURA  (freezingly} :    Miss  Carew,  Mr.  Graham. 
GRAHAM    (in  despair}  :    How  can  I   have  offended 
you?    I  took  it  for  granted  that  you,  loving  the  coun- 

try 

LAURA  (indignantly}  :  How  do  you  know  I  love  the 
country?  That  does  to  talk  about!  The  truth  is,  I'm 
fond  of  the  city — and  of  people  who  don't  blunder. 

GRAHAM  (recoiling}  :  Ah !  I  took  it  for  granted  you 
understood  me! 

LAURA  (still  indignantly} :  You  seem  to  have  taken 
it  for  granted,  sir,  that  you  understood  me  altogether  too 
well!  You  buy  your  estate  first,  it  seems,  and  take  it 
for  granted,  perhaps,  that  it  will  buy  the  woman !  Then 
you  boast  of  your  purchase  and  make  her  a  laughing- 
stock! Insulting!  (furiously}. 

GRAHAM  (humbly} :  The  thought  of  buying  the 
woman  never  came  to  me.  The  only  thing  I  can  do  is 
to  beg  her.  If  she  bestows  herself,  I  shall  be  rich.  I 
bought  the  estate  because  it  came  into  the  market  and 
would  be  caught  up.  I  can  sell  it  again  any  day.  I 


"TAKING   IT    FOR    GRANTED"        277 

LAURA  (somewhat  mollified)  :  Ah !  But  I  wouldn't 
hurry 

GRAHAM  (coming  up  to  her  as  she  stands)  :  I  was 
asking  you,  Miss  Carew — Laura! — will  you  be 

SIMS  (rushing  in  with  a  tennis  racquet) :  Oh,  come 
on  this  minute!  We  must  have  two  more  to  play! 

GRAHAM  (angrily) :  No,  thank  you.  One  would 
think  play  the  object  of  your  life! 

SIMS:    It  is.    Come  on! 

GRAHAM  (still  more  angrily) :  I  have  told  you — no, 
Mr.  Sims. 

LAURA  (smiling  sweetly)  :  Thank  you !  I'll  come, 
Mr.  Sims.  What  a  pity  you  are  not  in  the  mood,  Mr. 
Graham!  Some  law  case  to  study  up?  Good-by,  then. 
(She  moves  off  slowly.) 

GRAHAM:    Oh,  hold  on  a  minute!     (Follows.) 

LAURA  (laughing)  :  I  see,  women  have  not  a  monop- 
oly on  changing  their  minds!  Lead  on,  Mr.  Sims. 

SIMS  (to  Graham)  :  Oh,  a  letter  for  you!  I  nearly 
forgot.  You  were  absent  when  the  mail  was  read  off 
in  the  office,  so  I  took  it  for  you.  (Hands  it  to  him.) 

GRAHAM  :    Excuse  me,  please.    (Opens  and  reads.) 

(Enter  Miss  Achers  with  a  letter.) 

Miss  ACHERS:    For  you,  Laura. 

LAURA:  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Sims.  (Opens  her  letter.) 
Ah!  Good  news!  A  dear  friend  coming!  (Moves  to 
go  off  the  stage.)  Now  for  the  game !  Are  you  coming, 
Mr.  Graham? 

GRAHAM  (looking  up  as  if  he  had  forgotten  his  com- 
panions) :  No.  Pardon  me.  I  find  there  is  something 
special  to  be"  attended  to. 

(Scene  ends  with  Graham  standing  in  the  center  of 
the  stage  with  the  letter  in  his  hand,  the  others  moving 
off  slowly,  Laura  looking  back  at  him  wonderingly.) 

In  the  audience  Professor  Griswold  said  sadly  to 


278      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S    VACATION 

himself :  "  How  strange  it  is  that  in  life  there  are 
so  many  incidents  duplicated!  Now,  by  what  singu- 
lar and  unpremeditated  coincidence  have  these  young 
people  in  their  play  hit  upon  the  accident  so  fatal  to 
my  happiness — that  letter  at  such  a  moment!  Had  it 
come  but  a  day — even  an  hour — later,  I  might  have 
made  everything  clear;  so  near  in  spirit — yes,  and  in 
almost  the  very  words  themselves,  had  I  come  to 
her !  "  He  glanced  at  Miss  Knowles.  "  But  now  our 
lives  are  as  far  asunder  as  the  poles,  although  at  this 
moment  we  are  sitting  side  by  side,  but  not  like 
friends,  rather  like  strangers  who  chance  to  be  at  the 
same  spectacle ! " 

SCENE  II — Time,  the  following  afternoon.  Place,  the 
same,  the  veranda  of  the  hotel.  Laura — Miss  Ackers. 

LAURA:  But  to  go  off,  Anna,  in  such  a  way!  There 
can  be  no  excuse  whatever,  I  say,  NO  EXCUSE! 

Miss  ACKERS:  And  I  say,  Laura,  you  can't  imagine 
everything  in  the  world  that  may  have  happened.  You 
must  take  it  for  granted  that  Mr.  Graham  is  all  right. 
I  think  he  is ;  I  have  confidence  in  him. 

At  this  point  in  the  play  Professor  Griswold  bent 
toward  his  companion.  "  What  a  friend  she  is !  "  he 
whispered  to  her.  But  Miss  Knowles  kept  her  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  stage  and  appeared  not  to  have  heard 
him.  He  sighed  and  drew  back. 

LAURA  (tragically}  :  I  used  to  have  the  greatest  con- 
fidence in  him,  Anna. 


'TAKING   IT    FOR    GRANTED"        279 

Miss  ACKERS:  Oh,  he'll  make  it  all  right  when  he 
comes  back;  you'll  see. 

LAURA  :  He  may  not  have  the  chance !  Why  do  you 
want  me  to  take  so  much  for  granted,  Anna? 

Miss  ACKERS:     Because  it's  often  the  right  way. 

LAURA  :  And,  again,  often  it's  not.  So,  what  are  you 
going  to  do? 

Miss  ACKERS:    Wait. 

LAURA  (tragically)  :  Why  don't  you  tell  me  some- 
thing easy? 

Miss  ACKERS:  I  can't  think  of  anything  easy  just 
now,  Laura.  But  it  will  be  easy  backward — I  mean, 
after  it's  all  over. 

(Enter  Miss  Parker  and  Mr.  Sims.} 

KITTY  (excitedly}:  Well!  News  for  you  this  time! 
I  can  tell  the  reason  why  Mr.  Graham  went  off  on  the 
train  yesterday  evening,  and  where  he  went,  and — most 
important  of  all — whom  he  went  with !  (She  looks  at 
Laura  -who  is  all  attention.)  What  do  you  think  of 
escorting  a  beautiful  young  lady — oh,  she  was  very 
handsome ! — on  the  train  for  hours  and  hours,  nearly  the 
whole  day?  They  got  off  at  a  little  country  place,  and 
my  informant  says  he  put  her  into  a  carriage  and  was 
so  attentive — so  devoted.  Then  they  drove  off — perhaps 
they  drove  to  the  minister's.  Or,  perhaps,  it  was  a  wed- 
ding trip,  a  runaway  match,  perhaps.  One  never  knows 
anything  about  these  quiet  people.  I 

Miss  ACKERS  (her  arm  about  Laura  who  looks  very 
pale  and  says  not  a  word)  :  And  who  is  your  informant, 
may  I  ask,  Miss  Parker? 

KITTY  (tossing  her  head  and  laughing)  :  My  inform- 
ant is  no  less  a  personage  than  Mr.  Murray,  who  was 
obliged  to  go  to  the  city  on  business  last  evening  and 
went  on  the  same  train  with  Mr.  Graham.  It's  an  all- 
night  run,  you  remember.  When  Mr.  Murray  got  out 
in  the  morning,  whom  should  he  see  but  Mr.  Graham 


280      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S    VACATION 

meeting  his  lady-love!  It  happened  they  all  took  the 
same  parlor  car.  He  says  he  never  saw  greater  devo- 
tion ;  they  didn't  talk  much ;  evidently,  they  understood 
each  other — you'd  have  thought  so  if  you'd  been  there, 
from  his  account  of  it,  Miss  Carew.  And  I  suppose  it 
was  for  her  he  bought  that  fine  place  that  we  all  took  it 
for  granted  was  for  quite  another  lady.  But  one  never 
can  tell.  (Looks  at  Laura  and  laughs.}  (Aside} :  If 
I  can't  get  him  myself,  it's  something  to  see  her  cut 
out! 

Miss  ACHERS:  When  did  Mr.  Murray  return,  Miss 
Parker? 

KITTY:    He  has  not  returned  at  all,  Miss  Achers! 

Miss  ACHERS:    Not  returned!    Then  how 

KITTY:  Certainly  not.  Nowadays  one  doesn't  have 
to  be  on  the  spot  to  hear  things;  don't  you  know  that, 
Miss  Achers?  You  forget  the  telephone!  (Watches 
Anna's  troubled  face  and  laughs.)  He  telephoned  me 
just  now.  You  must  be  much  upset  by  my  news — by 
proxy,  of  course! 

Miss  ACHERS  (frigidly)  :  I  wished  only  to  verify, 
Miss  Parker.  There  are  so  many  senseless  rumors  fly- 
ing about  always ;  and  sometimes  one  gets  hold  of  them 
— most  unintentionally,  of  course. 

KITTY  (angrily) :  I  never  get  hold  of  senseless 
things,  Miss  Achers!  I  leave  that  to  others  who  have 
vivid  imaginations  and  who  take  it  for  granted  things 
are  intended  for  them — estates  and  all  that  sort  of  thing 
— when  it  turns  out  quite  the  contrary. 

LAURA  (furiously) :  If  by  talking  about  taking  any- 
thing for  granted  as  to  estates,  you  have  the — you  refer 
to  me,  Miss  Parker,  you  never  were  more  out  in  your 
life.  I  only  take  for  granted  what  my  eyes  assure  me 
of. 

KITTY  (mockingly)  :  And  perhaps  you  don't  believe 
Mr.  Murray's  eyes,  Miss  Carew? 


"TAKING   IT    FOR    GRANTED"        281 

LAURA  (scornfully}  :  What  is  it  to  me  what  Mr. 
Murray  sees,  or  does  not  see?  You  seem  to  take  it  for 
granted  that  Mr.  Graham's  movements  and  companions 
interest  me  especially?  Not  at  all.  Why  should  they? 

KITTY  (mockingly}  :  No;  I'm  sure  I  don't  see  why 
they  should.  Everybody  could  see  he's  just  been  pass- 
ing the  time  in  this  dull  place — as  we  all  have. 

LAURA  (sternly  and  with  effort} :  Exactly,  Miss 
Parker — as  we  all  have — although  we  have  thought  at 
times  that  your  interest  was  deeper. 

KITTY  (furiously}  :    Ha !  ha !  ha !    How  very  stupid ! 

SIMS  (approaching  Laura  and  turning  his  back  upon 
Kitty}  :  No,  I  assure  you,  Miss  Carew,  not  all  of  us. 
(They  walk  slowly  to  the  back  of  the  stage,  he  talking 
and  she  seeming  to  listen  languidly  and  under  protest. 
He  grows  more  earnest,  until  she  interrupts  him,  -first 
by  shaking  her  head,  and  then  by  speaking.) 

LAURA:  No,  no,  Mr.  Sims — not  that!  Really,  you 
must  not.  It's  taken  for  granted  we're  all  joking  here. 

KITTY  (interrupting,  angry  to  have  been  left  by 
Sims}  :  I  remember,  Miss  Carew,  when  I  went  to  board- 
ing school 

Miss  ACKERS  (interrupting}  :  Indeed !  Miss  Parker. 
Is  your  memory  so  excellent? 

KITTY  (tossing  her  head  and  laughing  scornfully}  : 
What  a  strain  it  is  for  some  people  even  to  try  to  be 
witty!  I  remember  when  I  went  to  boarding  school, 
Miss  Carew,  what  our  principal  used  to  say  to  us  girls — 
she  was  a  very  bright  woman — "  Young  ladies,"  she 
would  say,  "  never  consider  yourselves  engaged  until  the 
young  man  has  said  to  you,  *  Will  you  be  mine  ? '  and 
you  have  answered,  '  Yes,  thank  you ! ' '  Ha !  ha !  ha ! 
Wasn't  that  good?  Ha!  ha!  ha!  Come,  Mr.  Sims, 
we're  going  for  our  walk  immediately  or  we  sha'n't  get 
back  before  the  game  begins.  (Goes  toward  the  wing, 
followed  reluctantly  by  Sims.  There  turns.}  Ha!  ha! 


282      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S    VACATION 

ha!  Wasn't  it  good,  though? — "Young  ladies,  never 
think  you  are  engaged  to  be  married  until  he  has  said, 
'  Will  you  be  mine? '  "  (very  sentimentally)  "  and  you've 
answered,  'Yes,  thank  you!'"  Ha!  ha!  ha!  (Goes 
off.) 

LAURA  (sinking  into  a  chair,  Miss  Ackers  supporting 
her)  :  Oh,  was  I  so  wrong  in  taking  it  for  granted, 
when  he  almost  said  it? — when  he  began  to  say  it? 

Miss  ACKERS  (soothingly)  :  No!  no!  (Aside.)  But 
I  wish  he'd  finished! 

In  the  third  scene  of  the  play,  Graham  returns  in 
time  to  escort  Miss  Carew  to  a  picnic  for  which,  a 
few  days  previous,  she  had  accepted  his  escort.  But 
she  treats  him  with  freezing  coldness  and  goes  with 
Sims  who  tries  his  best  to  make  himself  irresistible. 
Graham  stays  at  home,  and  Miss  Parker  makes  some 
excuse  to  stay  also.  On  the  return  of  the  party,  Miss 
Carew  ignores  him  altogether.  The  others  go  away, 
and  Graham  is  left  in  a  corner,  out  of  sight,  but  not 
purposely  so.  A  stranger  appears,  asking  for  Miss 
Carew.  Laura  comes  running  out  of  the  house  and 
throws  her  arms  about  his  neck. 

"Oh,  Bertram!"  she  cries.  "How  glad  I  am  to 
see  you!  I  was  longing  for  the  sight  of  your  face." 

At  this,  Graham  rises  from  his  corner,  realizing 
that  Laura  had  believed  herself  alone  with  the 
stranger,  and  confronts  the  two.  Then  he  turns  to 
her,  saying  that  he  has  been  an  unintentional  witness 
of  her  greeting,  that  he  must  take  it  for  granted  that 
she  is  engaged  to  this  gentleman — and  that  he  wishes 
her  all  happiness  as  he  says  farewell  to  her.  After 


"TAKING   IT    FOR    GRANTED"        283 

speaking,  he  pauses  and  stands  looking  at  her,  as  if 
he  were  giving  her  opportunity  to  deny  his  charges. 

But  she  can  only  stammer  his  word :  "  '  Farewell ! ' ' 
Then,  as  she  remembers  the  account  of  the  beautiful 
lady  in  the  train  and  realizes  he  had  intended  fare- 
well to  herself  in  any  case,  her  face  hardens  and  she 
looks  sternly  back  at  him. 

"  I  wish  you  happiness ! "  he  says  again,  bows  and 
goes  off  without  glancing  back  at  her. 

Laura  stands  as  if  turned  to  stone.  As  he  disap- 
pears, she  says  to  herself :  "  It  is  the  end !  " 

The  scene  has  also  considerable  by-play. 

"  Yes,  it  is  the  end !  "  repeated  Professor  Griswold 
to  himself  as  he  listened.  "  How  true  to  nature  are 
the  imaginations  of  these  young  people!  It  is  won- 
derful! For  they  cannot  have  known  sorrow  like 
mine;  at  their  age  they  can  have  had  no  experience 
of  such  disappointment  and  pain;  yet  how  it  all  re- 
sembles what  I  know  too  well."  He  glanced  at  his 
companion,  who  sat  with  her  face  turned  to  the  stage 
and  her  eyes  well  out  of  range  of  his;  she  was  trem- 
bling; but  he  did  not  perceive  that. 

"  Can  they  really  have  known  ?  "  she  was  question- 
ing herself.  "Is  it  possible  this  is  merely  guess, 

or But,  no,  they  cannot  know.  It  shows  only 

that  my  experience  is  wider  than  I  realized.  I  must 
think  it  over  later.  I  don't  dare  to  dwell  upon  pos- 
sibilities here  and  now.  How  much  does  he  recog- 
nize? But,  happily,  that  I  shall  never  know.  How 
close  the  air  is  here,  Professor  Griswold ! "  She 


284      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S   VACATION 

turned  to  him  with  a  smile,  waving  her  fan  lan- 
guidly. 

"  Either  she  has  forgotten,  or  she  does  not  care ! " 
he  thought  despairingly.  "  In  the  play  all  will  come 
right ;  it's  a  comedy.  But  the  reality  is  tragic  enough. 
But  to-night  I  must  put  on  a  holiday  face  with  the 
rest.  I'm  here  only  for — amusement!  They  have 
opened  another  window,  Miss  Knowles,"  he  said  to 
her.  "  I  hope  you  are  cooler  now.  Cooler,  indeed !  " 
ran  his  thoughts  as  for  a  moment  he  looked  at  her 
steadily.  "Could  anyone  be  more  of  an  iceberg?  If 
she  doesn't  care,  can't  she  even  seem  to  remember?" 

Then  the  curtain  rose  again,  and  he  turned  to  the 
Second  Act.  He  was  still  interested  to  see  how  facts 
mingled  with  the  presentment  of  fancies. 

The  time  of  this  act  was  one  year  later,  at  the  same 
season — summer — and  at  the  same  place.  In  the  first 
scene,  Graham  has  disappeared  and  Sims,  who  has 
wooed  Laura  in  vain  for  a  year,  being  especially 
charmed  by  her  singing,  is  about  to  say  farewell  to 
her.  Murray,  still  paying  attentions  to  Kitty  Parker, 
holds  a  monologue  whether  warmed-over  love  is 
worth  anything,  and  is  brought  to  a  decision  by  seeing 
Kitty  in  the  distance  talking  to  Sims.  Yes,  Kitty  is 
too  fascinating  to  resign;  her  warmed-over  love  is 
much  better  than  nothing  of  her.  He  goes  up  to  the 
two,  and  on  the  exit  of  Sims  assures  her  that  some 
dishes  are  really  better  warmed  up  the  second  day. 
She  stares  at  him  and  then  bursts  out  laughing.  He 
tells  her  what  he  is  thinking  of.  She  is  aware  that 
Sims — a  millionaire — is  out  of  her  reach,  and  recall- 


"TAKING   IT    FOR    GRANTED"        285 

ing  that  Graham  is  out  of  the  running,  she  accepts 
Murray  a  little  condescendingly.  But  he  holds  even 
her  condescensions  charming.  The  scene  has  a  spir- 
ited conversation. 

In  the  second  and  last  scene  of  the  act  Laura  comes 
in  with  a  large  green  lawyer's  bag  in  her  hand.  The 
talk  that  follows  makes  it  plain  that,  on  a  run  in  a 
motor  car  with  others  of  the  party,  she  has  discov- 
ered this  bag,  for  which  the  owner  has  advertised. 
The  clerk  of  the  hotel  has  answered  the  advertise- 
ment, and  the  owner  is  coming,  in  fact,  has  already 
come  for  his  property.  He  is  Mr.  Alden.  At  the 
moment  a  voice  from  the  wings  calls  loudly  to  them 
to  come  and  play  golf.  All  go  out  but  Laura,  who 
stays  to  receive  the  owner  of  the  bag  and  restore  it 
to  him;  he  enters  at  the  right  as  the  others  go  out 
on  the  left. 


LAURA  (aside,  watching  Kitty  walk  off  with  Murray}  : 
How  happy  she  looks !  (Turns  and  bows  to  the  stranger 
without  glancing  at  him).  Mr.  Alden,  I  believe. 

GRAHAM  (with  agitation)  :  Laura! — Miss  Carew!  I 
had  no  idea  you  were  here. 

LAURA  (starting  and  looking  agitated  also) :  Mr. 
Graham!  Why!  I  supposed  Mr.  Alden  was  coming 
for  his  bag?  This  was  what  the  clerk  told  me. 

GRAHAM  :  Yes ;  so  he  did  intend.  But  pressing  busi- 
ness detained  him,  and  he  asked  me  to  come  for  him. 
I'm  his  partner,  Miss  Carew. 

LAURA  (coldly) :  Oh,  I  see.  But — oh,  it's  the  same 
thing,  of  course,  Mr.  Graham.  What  matter  who  comes 
for  it,  so  long  as  it  gets  to  its  owner?  Here  it  is. 

GRAHAM   (taking  it  from  her) :     I  thank  you  most 


286      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S    VACATION 

heartily,  Miss  Carew.  You  cannot  guess  what  impor- 
tant papers  are  in  this  bag.  How  fortunate  that  it  fell 
into  such  hands  as  yours!  I  can't  be  too  grateful;  for 
the  papers  concern  us  both — my  partner  and  myself. 

LAURA  (still  coldly)  :  I'm  glad  to  have  been  of  serv- 
ice to  you,  Mr.  Graham — although  so  unconsciously. 
(He  bows.)  (Aside.)  How  pale  he  looks!  He  is 
nothing  to  me — ever.  But  I  love  him.  I  must  be  cour- 
teous to  him  this  last  time.  (She  sits  down.)  Won't 
you  be  seated,  Mr.  Graham?  You  have  a  little  time  be- 
fore your  train? 

The  professor  in  the  audience  commented  to  himself 
here :  "  Now,  that's  new.  There  was  nothing  of  this 
kind  in  the  reality.  She  doesn't  care  at  all!"  He 
tried  to  get  a  glimpse  of  Miss  Knowles'  face;  but  it 
was  turned  away  from  him;  and  he  looked  back  at 
the  stage  again.  "Ah,  he's  going  to  sit  down!"  he 
said.  "  Now,  what  is  to  happen?  "  And  he  was  again 
absorbed. 

GRAHAM  (to  Laura)  :  Thank  you.  I  have  two  hours 
to  wait.  (Pause.) 

LAURA:    Beautiful  weather,  Mr.  Graham. 

GRAHAM  (abstractedly):  Very  fine!  (Pause.)  I 
must  tell  you,  Miss  Carew,  that  I  have  not  intentionally 
intruded  upon  you,  since  I  understand  that  my  presence 
is  not  agreeable  to  you.  I'm  sure  you  will  take  it  for 
granted  that 

LAURA  (laughing  with  embarrassment)  :  What  am  I 
to  take  for  granted,  Mr.  Graham? 

GRAHAM:    That  I  did  not  know  you  were  here. 

LAURA:  You  mean,  it  is  disagreeable  to  you  to  meet 
me? 


"TAKING   IT    FOR    GRANTED"       287 

GRAHAM  (desperately):  Miss  Carew — Laura!  You 
must  have  taken  it  for  granted  that  I  went  away  last 
year  because  I  could  not  bear  to (He  pauses.) 

LAURA:  Because  you  could  not  bear  to  see  me,  Mr. 
Graham?  Indeed,  I  was  not  so  vain  as  to  take  any  such 
thing  for  granted.  I  thought  you  went  away  because — 
because  you  wanted  to  go ;  and  I  think  so  now — because 
there  was  someone  not  here  whom  you  wanted  to  meet. 
(She  turns  upon  him  suddenly.)  How  about  that  beau- 
tiful young  lady  you  escorted  last  summer,  Mr.  Graham  ? 
I  take  it  for  granted  that  she  is  Mrs.  Graham  now? 
(Looks  at  him  anxiously.) 

GRAHAM  :  Yes ;  she  is  Mrs.  Graham ;  she  has  been  so 
for  years — for  two  years. 

LAURA  (drawing  away  from  him):  What!  Even 
when  you  were  here  last  summer! 

GRAHAM  (looking  bewildered)  :  Yes,  indeed !  Why 
not?  Poor  thing!  But  now 

LAURA  (with  a  forced  laugh)  :  But  now  you  think  of 
offering  your  attentions  elsewhere,  perhaps,  Mr.  Graham, 
and  being  as  gay  as  you  were  last  summer,  when  you 
and — Miss  Parker  were  so  interested  in  one  another? 
No  wonder,  you  say,  "  Poor  thing  " ! 

GRAHAM  (looking  still  more  bewildered)  :  Yes,  poor 
thing,  indeed !  She  has  had  a  very  hard  time — so  young 
and  beautiful ;  and  such  a  sad  experience !  But  now  she 
has  in  some  degree  recovered  her  spirits;  and  I  hope 
that  she  will  become  her  natural,  gay  self  again.  I 

LAURA  (scornfully)  :  I  should  suppose  that  her  gay- 
ety  and  her  happiness  would  depend  upon  your  treat- 
ment of  her,  sir! 

GRAHAM  (still  bewildered)  :  I  have  tried  to  be  kind 
to  her,  of  course.  But  there  has  been  so  little  that  I 
could  do  for  her,  poor  child ! 

LAURA  (laughing  sarcastically) :  Very  little,  cer- 
tainly— as  you  seem  to  look  at  things! 


288      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

GRAHAM  (still  puzzled}  :  But  now — although  I  don't 
feel  in  the  spirit  of  such  things,  I'm  going  to  her  wed- 
ding next  week,  and 

LAURA  (amazed}  :  Going  to  her  wedding!  Going  to 
your  wife's  wedding! 

GRAHAM  (starting  up}:  What!  My  wife?  My 
wife,  Laura!  I  have  no  wife,  and  never  shall.  You 
know  the  one  woman  whom  I  love.  And  she  is  not  Miss 
Parker ! 

LAURA  (bewildered)  :  But — that  beautiful  young  lady 
— Mrs.  Graham? 

GRAHAM  (smiling  all  over  his  face}  :  Why,  she's  my 
brother's  widow.  Last  summer  he  died.  I  took  her  to 
him  the  day  you  must  have  heard  of  my  traveling  with 
her.  He  was  ill  then,  but  we  did  not  know  how  very 
ill.  Still,  she  was  in  sorrow  and  I  did  what  I  could  for 
her,  poor  thing !  I  am  glad  she  has  found  consolation — 
she  is  so  young!  If  she  were  older,  she  could  not  for- 
get so  easily.  (Looks  at  her  keenly.}  I  took  it  for 
granted  that  I  had  made  myself  very  well  understood 
by  you  last  summer,  Laura.  But  perhaps 

LAURA  (eager  and  embarrassed}  :  How  odd  that  you 
are  going  to  a  wedding  next  week,  Mr.  Graham.  So 
am  I.  Would  you  like  to  know  whose? 

GRAHAM  (looking  suddenly  distressed} :  To  your 
own,  Miss  Carew? 

LAURA  (laughing} :  No,  indeed !  The  right  man 
hasn't  asked  me,  Mr.  Graham — that  is — I'm  going  to 
Mr.  Vorse's  wedding.  He  has  always  been  like  a 
brother  to  me.  He  is  my  cousin,  you  know;  he  came 
just  as  you  went  away  last  year.  (5^  looks  at  him  and 
smiles.) 

GRAHAM  :  You  should  say,  I  went  away  just  as  he 
came.  (Pause.}  Perhaps  I  took  too  much  for  granted 

then.  I  thought  you  cared  for  him  as (Pauses  and 

looks  at  her  questioningly.) 


"TAKING   IT    FOR    GRANTED"        289 

LAURA  (looking  down,  embarrassed)  :  You  do  take  a 
good  deal  for  granted,  Mr.  Graham. 

GRAHAM  :  And  you  also  took  for  granted  that  I  was 
false  to  you 

LAURA  (hastily)  :  You  were  not  bound  to  me,  Mr. 
Graham, 

GRAHAM  (looking  at  her  reproachfully):  What! 
For  lack  of  two  words?  I'll  say  them  now  and  dare 
everything — "  my  wife !  "  I  had  already  asked  you, 
"  Will  you  be  " — and  somebody  came.  I  couldn't  finish. 
I  took  it  for  granted  that  you  would  let  me  say  the  rest 
afterward.  But  you  never  did. 

LAURA  (looking  at  him  shyly)  :  After  the  story  of 
the  beautiful  young  lady,  I  took  it  for  granted  that  you 
were  glad  you  had  not. 

GRAHAM  (taking  her  hand,  which  is  not  withdrawn)  : 
Laura  Carew,  will  you  be  my  wife?  (Steps  and  voices.) 
Oh,  Laura,  let  us  take  nothing  for  granted  this  time — 
speak. 

LAURA  (steps  and  voices  coming  nearer) :  Yes,  Mr. 
Graham,  I  will. 

GRAHAM  (pressing  her  hand  and  releasing  it  and  ris- 
ing as  Murray,  Sims,  Miss  Parker  and  Miss  Ackers 
enter)  :  How  do  you  do,  Miss  Achers  ?  And,  Miss 
Parker,  to  meet  you  is  like  coming  into  a  blaze  of  elec- 
tricity, you're  so  brilliant.  Glad  to  see  you,  Murray, 
Sims.  (They  shake  hands.") 

KITTY  (laughing):  Take  care,  Mr.  Graham!  Not 
too  many  compliments!  Things  have  moved  since  you 
went  away  so  cruelly  last  year,  in  pursuit  of  the  lovely 
stranger,  you  know.  If  you  are  too  flattering  now, 
you'll  have  to  answer  for  it  to  Mr.  Murray.  I'm  glad 
to  see  you  again ;  and,  as  the  next  hour  you  may  disap- 
pear for  an  unlimited  period,  I'll  take  this  opportunity 
to  invite  you  to  our  wedding. 

GRAHAM  (beaming  upon  her):     Congratulations!     I 


290      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S    VACATION 

shall  be  too  delighted,  I'm  sure.  And  also  there  can- 
not be  a  better  opportunity  than  the  present — may  I, 
Miss  Carew?  (she  smiles  and  nods) — as  I  was  saying, 
to  invite  you  all  to  our  wedding — Miss  Carew's  and 
mine. 

KITTY:  Congratulations  without  end!  Why,  I  took 
it  for  granted 

GRAHAM  :  Ah,  Miss  Parker !  "  Taking  it  for  granted  " 
has  taken  a  back  seat. 

(Group:  Graham  and  Miss  Carew  in  center  of  stage; 
Murray  and  Miss  Parker  on  the  right;  Sims  and  Miss 
Ackers  on  the  left.  Curtain  falls.) 

At  first  the  professor  forgot  to  applaud;  he  was  so 
occupied  in  thinking  that  even  children  may  suggest 
excellent  points — if  only  the  play  and  the  reality  had 
been  still  more  similar,  if  only  she  who  cared  not  at 
all,  did  really  care! 


XXVI 

DOROTHY'S  LETTER 

"  MOTHER  dear,"  wrote  Dorothy  late  that  same 
night,  "I  must  tell  you  before  I  go  to  bed  that  in 
one  way,  at  least,  the  play  was  a  great  success — 
everybody  enjoyed  it,  and  we  had  as  much  praise  as 
we  could  stagger  under — that's  a  good  deal,  I  assure 
you! 

"The  college  boys  were  all  very  funny;  they  put 
in  so  many  things  not  down  on  paper  and  made  bright 
speeches,  taking  off  incidents  of  the  day.  In  the  first 
part  of  the  second  act  Lulu  had  a  song;  I  wrote  the 
words  and  she  set  it  to  music.  She  rendered  it  beau- 
tifully. Grace  who  always  declared  she  couldn't  act 
at  all,  did  splendidly.  Priscy  had  only  a  few  words  to 
say,  but  she  managed  to  make  those  very  fetching 
and  she  had  an  immense  amount  of  stage  business; 
she  did  remarkably  well.  I  saw  her  father  watching 
her;  I  think  he  was  proud  of  her.  He  had  told  me 
when  he  went  away  where  he  was  to  be  for  the  next 
few  days,  and  I  had  telephoned,  asking  him  and  Mrs. 
Pell  to  the  play.  I  knew  it  couldn't  make  matters 
between  him  and  Pell-Mell  any  worse,  they  were  as 
bad  as  possible  now,  and  something  might  happen; 
it  gave  another  opportunity,  at  least.  They  are  stay- 
ing all  night ;  so  he  and  Priscy  may  have  a  talk  in  the 
morning — who  knows  ? 

291 


292      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S    VACATION 

"But  you  are  waiting  to  hear  about  the  professor 
and  Miss  Knowles — so  am  I!  I  watched  them  the 
whole  evening  when  I  didn't  have  duties  behind  the 
scenes.  Once  or  twice  I  saw  the  professor  turn  to 
her  with  a  word.  But  either  she  didn't  answer,  or 
she  must  have  thrown  him  a  very  scrubbed  reply,  for 
he  turned  away  again  immediately.  And  once  she 
spoke  to  him,  haughtily,  I  think;  she  seemed  annoyed 
at  something.  But  he  looked  at  her  when  parts  in 
the  play  hit,  and  I  know  he  was  interested.  I've  no 
idea  how  much  he  guesses,  or  feels. 

"But,  mother,  Mrs.  Longley  has  given  him  a 
chance ;  she's  as  interested  and  '  romantic '  as  any  of 
us,  and  that's  one  reason  why  I  like  her.  It  was 
when  we  were  talking  things  over  after  the  audience 
had  gone — of  course,  the  professor  is  staying  here  to- 
night, he  couldn't  get  home.  Miss  Knowles  had  said 
good-night  and  gone.  Then  Mrs.  Longley  came  up 
to  the  professor  and  asked  him  why  he  could  not  fill 
that  empty  seat  in  the  motor  car;  it  had  been  wait- 
ing all  the  trip  for  Monsieur  L'Imprevu,  and  he  was 
Monsieur  L'Imprevu!  We  all  took  the  cue  and 
pitched  in  so  that  he  couldn't  say  '  no.'  I  don't  think 
he  wanted  to.  As  we  were  talking  to  him,  Rex 
glanced  at  me  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye,  and  the 
next  moment  he  said:  'Professor  Griswold,  Mrs. 
Longley  can't  make  a  monopoly  of  you.  I  must  have 
you  in  my  car.  I  want  you  to  see  the  working  of  it 
still  further.  You  remember  you  liked  it  so  well  on 
the  run  to  the  train  last  evening.'  The  professor 
hoped  he  would  not  be  taking  another  person's  place 


DOROTHY'S   LETTER  293 

if  he  accepted?  He  was  at  the  disposal  of  his  kind 
hosts ;  and  he  looked  in  perplexity  from  Mrs.  Longley 
to  Rex.  'Your  brother's  immensely  keen/  said  Ned 
in  my  ear,  and  I  saw  him  exchange  a  smile  of  com- 
prehension with  his  mother.  But  before  she  could 
speak,  Rex  went  on:  'I  know  that  Miss  Longley 
would  rather  be  in  the  car  with  her  mother  who,  as 
you  have  heard,  had  a  severe  accident  recently;  so, 
I'm  doing  the  kindest  thing  to  her  in  proposing  this 
change.  Isn't  it  so,  Miss  Longley?'  He  wheeled 
about,  and,  as  Grace  told  me  afterward,  looked  into 
her  eyes  with  an  expression  that  nearly  upset  her 
gravity;  for  she  caught  on  instantly  that  Rex  wanted 
her  seat  beside  Miss  Knowles  for  the  professor.  She 
answered  demurely  that  this  arrangement  would  suit 
her  best.  Rex  knew  that  Miss  Knowles  would  back 
out  of  the  party  altogether  rather  than  change  her  car 
to  be  with  the  professor  in  Mrs.  Longley's,  and  I  don't 
think  she'd  be  to  blame  for  that.  As  Rex  went  by 
me  the  next  minute,  he  whispered :  '  Haven't  I  fixed 
Miss  Of-Course,  Doro?  But  I  made  a  cat's-paw  of 
poor  Grace.'  I  gave  him  an  approving  glance. 
*  Grace  is  not  so  badly  off  with  us/  I  retorted.  He 
laughed.  Isn't  he  a  clever  fellow?  So,  it's  settled 

that  the  professor  goes  to  A by  the  very  earliest 

train  in  the  morning — before  we're  downstairs,  packs 
his  dress-suit  case,  comes  back  here  to  lunch,  and  goes 
with  us.  I  hope  he  won't  forget  all  about  it! 

"Pell-Mell  and  her  father  are  always  in  my 
thought,  I'm  so  set  upon  their  being  reconciled. 
Perhaps  it  will  never  happen ;  but  I  won't  believe  any 


294      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S    VACATION 

such  thing.  I  suppose  I'm  a  little  doleful  because  the 
dear  child  has  just  been  into  my  room,  to  bid  me 
good-night  all  by  myself.  She  looked  into  my  eyes 
so  sadly.  '  You  dear,  dear  friend,'  she  said ;  '  I  see 
just  what  you've  done,  and  what  you  hope.  But  I 
know  better;  I  know  it's  too  late  now  for  anything — 
ever.'  Then  she  put  her  arms  about  my  neck  and  her 
head  on  my  shoulder  and  sobbed  hard  for  a  minute.  I 
hugged  her  back  again,  and,  I  believe,  I  cried  a  little, 
too;  it's  a  hard  case,  and  I  do  love  Priscy  so  much, 
and  admire  the  colonel  so,  for  all  that  he  was  unkind 
once.  The  next  minute  Priscy  had  recovered  herself 
and  stood  off,  looking  at  me.  '  You  sweet  child ! ' 
she  said,  wiping  my  eyes  with  her  handkerchief,  '  you 
sha'n't  cry  for  me ;  I'm  all  right.  Go  to  sleep,  and  be 
as  happy  as  you  deserve.'  Only  as  happy  as  I  de- 
serve !  Oh,  mother !  And  she  went  away  with  a  put- 
on  smile  which  she  kept  until  her  back  was  turned. 
"  Good-by,  mother  dear.  I  hope  you  are  all  well. 
Dear  love  to  everybody.  I've  had  such  a  good  time 
— but  it  doesn't  make  it  any  less  good  that  I  am  ex- 
pecting to  see  you  all  in  a  few  days  now. 
"Your  affectionate 

"  DOROTHY." 

There  were  no  excursions  that  last  morning.  Every- 
body was  to  be  on  hand  for  luncheon;  and  directly 
after  this  the  Brooke  party  were  to  set  out  for  the 
next  stopping  place,  at  which,  however,  owing  to  the 
delay  from  Mrs.  Longley's  accident,  they  would  re- 
main only  over  night,  instead  of  the  few  days  at  first 


DOROTHY'S  LETTER  295 

planned.  Rex's  friends  would  start  with  the  others 
and  continue  their  tour,  which  was  in  a  different  di- 
rection ;  and  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Pell  were  also  to  leave 
at  the  same  time. 

So,  for  the  few  hours  that  they  were  all  to  be  to- 
gether, everyone  did  as  he  or  she  pleased.  Dorothy 
saw  Priscy  talking  to  her  father  after  breakfast;  but 
Mrs.  Pell  was  there  also,  and  from  a  distance  the 
conversation  appeared  more  like  a  perfunctory  inter- 
change of  courtesies  than  any  satisfactory  talk  be- 
tween father  and  daughter.  Indeed,  Priscy  said  to 
her  afterward :  "  It's  just  as  I  told  you  it  would  be, 
Dorothy." 

Later  that  morning  Ned  and  Dorothy  were  speak- 
ing about  the  performance  of  the  evening  before  and 
suggesting  how  the  play  could  be  improved. 

"  Are  you  counting  upon  seeing  our  professor  ?  " 
asked  Dorothy  suddenly. 

"Counting  upon  it  absolutely,"  he  returned. 

But  when  luncheon  was  announced,  the  professor 
had  not  arrived. 

"  He's  forgotten  all  about  it,"  volunteered  Nor- 
cross,  glancing  backward  at  Miss  Knowles,  who  was 
at  a  safe  distance. 

"Indeed,  I'm  sure  he  has  not!"  asserted  Ned. 
"  Something  has  delayed  him.  We'll  suspend  the 
verdict." 

"  Meanwhile,  we'll  go  and  get  something  to  eat," 
declared  Rex,  as  the  party  filed  into  the  dining-room. 


XXVII 

A   GREAT   EXCITEMENT 

NED  was  called  from  luncheon  to  the  telephone,  and 
came  back  with  a  message  to  his  mother.  "  He's  very 
sorry  not  to  be  on  time,"  he  announced.  "  But  he's 
coming  by  the  next  train,  if  it  will  not  be  asking  too 
much  for  us  to  wait  for  him.  I  told  him  '  no.' ' 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Mrs.  Longley.  "  We  shall 
be  paid  for  waiting." 

"Why,  whom  are  we  waiting  for?"  inquired  Miss 
Knowles.  "  Who's  coming?  " 

An  instant's  silence  fell  on  the  assembly.  Ned  had 
blundered ;  he  would  hear  about  it  later. 

But  the  next  moment  he  turned  to  the  questioner. 
"It  is  Professor  Griswold,  Miss  Knowles,"  he 
answered  her  calmly,  looking  into  her  eyes  as  if  she 
could  have  no  special  interest  in  the  coming.  "  My 
mother  has  taken  the  greatest  liking  to  the  professor — 
we  all  have,  for  that  matter — and  mamma  invited  him 
to  come  on  with  us  for  a  day  or  two."  Then,  per- 
ceiving an  opposition  rising  in  the  other's  manner,  he 
added  with  great  deliberation  and  a  face  of  perfect 
gravity :  "  She  feels  that  it  would  be  good  for  Grace, 
and  all  of  us,  to  have  the  benefit  of  his  erudition,  his 
first-hand  knowledge  of  books  and  his  scholarly  attain- 
ments." His  eyes  did  not  waver  from  Miss  Knowles' 

296 


A   GREAT   EXCITEMENT  297 

countenance,  nor  did  a  quiver  of  his  lips  betray  the 
inward  mirth  that  was  devouring  him. 

Dorothy  took  a  hasty  swallow  of  water,  Priscy  be- 
gan to  eat  with  new  assiduity,  Rex  dropped  his  napkin 
and  dived  under  the  table  for  it,  thereby  greatly  shock- 
ing the  waiter  who  was  on  duty,  and  none  of  the 
young  persons  dared  look  at  one  another.  But  Ned 
still  stood  gazing  with  unmoved  expression  at  Miss 
Knowles. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  answered — "  to  be  sure.  He  is  a 

cultivated  man,  certainly.  I  didn't  think "  She 

broke  off  and  looked  at  Grace  with  a  new  perception; 
hitherto,  the  latter  had  been  in  her  eyes  only  a  child; 
but,  really,  she  was  a  tall  girl — and  pretty.  Why  should 

not  the  professor  be  interested  in  her,  since 

"  Oh,  yes,  certainly,"  she  repeated ;  and  devoted  her- 
self to  her  luncheon,  although  without  much  appetite. 

"I  killed  two  birds  with  one  stone,"  laughed  Ned 
afterward  to  Rex.  "  Now  she  won't  oppose  Grace  and 
the  professor  riding  in  different  cars." 

"  I  can't  make  up  my  mind  whether  you're  born 
a  playwright,  or  a  detective !  "  retorted  the  other. 

Since  their  friends  would  be  delayed,  and  the  parties 
were  not  even  going  in  the  same  direction,  Norcross 
and  his  two  companions  decided  to  start  directly  after 
luncheon  as  they  had  all  intended  to  do. 

The  motor  car  with  the  collegians  was  no  sooner 
out  of  sight  than  Colonel  Pell  turned  to  Mrs.  Longley 
with  a  statement  and  a  suggestion.  Almost  directly 
aiterward  Ned  who  had  been  standing  beside  his 


298      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S    VACATION 

mother  while  the  colonel  was  talking  to  her  came  to- 
ward the  others. 

"  Colonel  Pell  has  just  been  saying  that  he  has  had 
news  of  a  balloon  ascension  to-morrow  morning,"  he 
said.  "  He.  wants  to  go ;  and  he  wonders  if  we  all 
would  not  like  to  see  it?" 

"He  needn't  wonder,"  cried  Rex.  "He  must  be 
sure  we  would  consider  it  the  very  next  best  thing  to 
going  up  ourselves." 

"  I  should  put  it  higher  than  that,"  remarked  Rose 
Hewes  in  an  amused  tone  that  made  her  hearers  laugh. 

"  So,  you're  not  an  aeronaut,"  said  Jimmy.  "  You'd 
rather  paint  the  clouds  than  sail  through  them?  " 

"  Well,  what  do  you  say  ?  "  asked  Ned.  "  Mamma 
wants  me  to  tell  her." 

"  Shall  we  vote  by  acclaim  to  go  ?  "  asked  Jimmy 
Reid. 

His  suggestion  was  carried. 

"  The  colonel  says,"  added  Ned,  "  that  the  ascension 
is  to  be  made  at  ten  o'clock,  if  the  wind  is  favorable. 
The  place  is  about  fifty  miles  from  here  and  not  over 
twelve  from  his  hotel.  He  wants  us  to  change  our  pro- 
gramme and  spend  the  night  there,  all  of  us,  as  his 
guests.  Then  we  can  start  in  comfort  the  next  morn- 
ing." Priscy  looked  down  and  smiled ;  she  appreciated 
her  father's  doing  things  as  they  should  be  done,  she 
said  to  herself.  "  He  says  the  aeronauts  are  scientific 
men,"  Ned  went  on.  "  He  knows  them.  They're  going 
up  for  scientific  purposes,  to  study  air  currents  and 
other  things.  They  start  from  some  little  village — 
I  forget  the  name — they  don't  want  a  show  and  a 


A   GREAT   EXCITEMENT  299 

crowd.  He  says  he  has  telephoned  to  his  hotel  and 
rooms  will  be  ready  for  us  if  we  will  go.  We  can  start 
as  soon  as  the  professor  arrives ;  we  know  the  way." 

"  But  isn't  he  coming  with  us  ?  "  cried  Dorothy. 

"  He  says,"  answered  Ned,  "  that  Mrs.  Pell  promised 
to  spend  a  week  with  friends  near  here.  He's  going 
to  take  her  this  afternoon,  and  then  go  to  his  hotel  to 
do  some  work,  and  join  her  the  last  two  days — I 
suspect  he  doesn't  like  to  make  long  visits ;  men  don't, 
you  know,"  the  speaker  added  with  an  air  of  knowing 
all  about  the  matter  from  long  experience,  so  that  the 
others  smiled  and  he  hastened  to  explain  that  Colonel 
Pell  would  motor  over  with  his  wife  to  her  destination 
and  run  back  to  meet  them.  "  He  will  probably  catch 
up  with  us  before  we  arrive,"  he  said,  "  or  will  be  there 
almost  as  soon  as  we  are.  Here  is  his  car  now — and 
here  is  Mrs.  Pell." 

"  We'll  have  a  fine  time  if  he  knows  the  aeronauts," 
remarked  Rex  as  they  watched  the  colonel's  car  depart. 

That  evening  they  learned  more  about  air  travel  than 
any  of  them  had  known  before.  Colonel  Pell  was  most 
interesting,  and  in  his  charming  way,  as  if  he  had 
merely  picked  up  such  bits  of  information,  he  gave  a 
summary  of  the  most  famous  attempts  at  aviation. 
The  inventors  of  the  balloon,  the  Montgolfier  brothers, 
paper  makers  of  the  little  French  town  of  Annonay, 
of  whom  most  of  his  hearers  knew  a  little,  became  in- 
vested with  a  new  interest  as  he  told  of  their  experi- 
ments beginning  with  paper  bags  raised  by  the  hot  air 
of  a  fire  and  arriving  in  about  a  year  at  a  balloon  sev- 
enty-two feet  in  height  sent  off  from  Versailles  in  the 


300      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

presence  of  Louis  XVI  and  his  court.  This  balloon 
rose  high  in  air  and  fell  half  a  mile  from  its  starting 
place ;  its  occupants,  a  sheep,  a  cock  and  a  duck,  were 
unhurt.  He  told  the  story  of  King  Louis'  suggestion 
when  people  clamored  to  have  a  human  being  make  the 
ascension;  he  thought  that  two  criminals  under  sen- 
tence of  death  should  be  sent  up  as  an  experiment. 
"  But  the  spirit  of  discovery,  the  spirit  that  makes 
heroes,"  said  Colonel  Pell,  "  was  in  the  brave  Pilatre 
de  Rozier.  You  remember  his  reply :  '  Shall  vile 
criminals  have  the  first  glory  of  rising  into  the  sky?' 
he  cried.  And  he  himself  made  the  ascent,  that  time 
and  still  other  times  in  safety ;  but,  at  last  he  was  killed 
in  a  most  hazardous  experiment  to  combine  gas  and 
hot  air  which  burst  his  balloon  into  atoms." 

Colonel  Pell  perceiving  the  interests  of  his  hearers, 
spoke  of  Garnerin  with  his  parachute ;  of  the  Charles' 
and  Roberts'  balloon ;  of  Lunardi's  voyages ;  of  the  in- 
trepid Blanchard  and  Dr.  Jeffries,  who  crossed  the 
English  Channel  in  a  balloon;  of  the  adventures  of 
Green  and  Coxwell;  of  other  famous  aerial  voyages, 
and  the  excitement  all  over  the  world  at  the  possibili- 
ties of  ballooning.  But  if  the  art  had  been  invented 
during  the  Middle  Ages,  he  said,  its  inventors  would 
have  been  put  to  death  as  wizards,  and  he  told  how, 
even  as  late  as  1709,  an  unhappy  friar  for  having  de- 
clared that  he  had  invented  a  flying  machine  fell  into 
the  clutches  of  the  Inquisition  and  was  never  heard  of 
more.  The  colonel  was  especially  interesting  when  he 
came  to  speak  of  the  progress  in  aeronautics  from 
Blanchard's  attempt  to  invent  dirigible  balloons  down 
to  the  aeroplanes  of  to-day.  He  showed  his  listeners 


A   GREAT   EXCITEMENT  301 

how  in  the  school  of  aviation  every  inventor  had  bene- 
fited by  the  labors  and  inventions  of  those  who  had 
gone  before,  and  that  the  signal  successes  of  the 
Wright  brothers  were  built  upon  the  experiments  of 
Glaisher,  Gay-Lussac,  Langley  and  hosts  of  other  men 
of  science,  rich  in  inventive  genius. 

The  whole  evening  Priscy  scarcely  spoke.  Dorothy 
did  not  know  whether  to  be  sorry  or  glad  at  this ;  it 
certainly  showed  emotion  in  Pell-Mell.  If  she  should 
come  to  love  her  father,  and  yet  had  really  offended 
him  too  deeply  for  forgiveness,  why 

"  But  that  must  be  very,  very  deeply  if  he  is  such  a 
father  as  I  think  him,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  I  cannot 
imagine  what  will  be;  I  do  so  hope  things  will  turn 
out  right." 

But  Priscy  did  not  steal  into  her  room  for  a  good- 
night, all  to  herself,  as  the  girl  liked  to  put  it;  and 
Dorothy  went  to  sleep  perplexed  yet  hoping  for  the 
best — which  was  Dorothy's  way. 

What  was  the  matter?  The  few  persons  who  had 
learned  of  the  proposed  ascension  were  waiting  at  the 
place,  some  in  motor  cars,  some  in  carriages,  or 
wagons,  and  a  number  on  foot.  And  there,  swaying 
as  if  with  impatience  to  be  off,  was  the  great  balloon 
with  many  improvements  of  which  the  early  aeronauts 
had  vaguely  dreamed.  The  attendants  stood  ready  to 
remove  the  sand  bags  holding  the  beautiful  creature 
to  the  earth  it  was  about  to  spurn.  Yet,  they  did  not 
remove  them.  The  director  of  the  aerial  voyage  stood 
with  cloudy  brow  and  every  now  and  then  turned  an 
impatient  glance  to  his  left,  from  which  came  nothing 


302      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S    VACATION 

to  reward  his  search.  Yes,  at  last  came  a  boy  of  fifteen 
running  with  something  in  his  hand.  As  he  reached 
the  aeronaut,  the  latter  snatched  the  note  that  the  mes- 
senger held  out  to  him.  The  next  moment  he  turned 
to  Colonel  Pell  who  was  standing  beside  him. 

"  Trip  is  all  up,"  he  said.  "  Adams  has  been  taken 
suddenly  ill  and  can't  go  with  me."  And  he  handed 
the  note  to  the  colonel.  "  I  can't  go  alone,"  he  added. 
"I  have  to  manage  the  balloon;  I  can't  take  obser- 
vations, too.  We're  studying  peculiarities  in  air  cur- 
rents, something  we  fancied  especially  marked  in  this 
region.  We're  going  high — if  all  goes  well;  I  mean, 
we  were;  and  you  know,  nobody  better  than  you, 
Colonel  Pell,  that  we  may  not  come  down  just  how 
and  where  we  would  like;  it's  an  experiment.  I  am 
interested  enough  to  be  willing  to  risk  it;  so  was 
Adams.  But  I  don't  know  anybody  else  about  here 

with  the  skill  we  need,  and  the  pluck "  Suddenly 

he  stopped ;  something  in  the  other's  face  had  arrested 
him.  "  Surely,  you  don't  mean  that  you'll  go ! "  he 
exclaimed.  "  Why,  you'd  take  the  observations  more 
scientifically  even  than  Adams.  But " 

"  But  what  ?  "  asked  the  other. 

"But  there's  the  danger,"  went  on  the  aeronaut. 
"  We'll  have  to  think  of  something  besides  our  skins. 
Of  course,  I  don't  suggest  you'd  hesitate  at  anything 
whatever  in  your  own  line  of  duty,  you  know.  But 
this  is  out  of  it,  and  any  one  might  not  care  to  invest 
in  the  venture." 

"  Do  you  want  me,  Burnham  ?  "  said  Colonel  Pell 
coldly. 


A   GREAT   EXCITEMENT  303 

"I  should  be  more  than  delighted.  I  believe  we 
shall  be  successful  and  come  out  all  right.  But — I 
had  to  speak,  you  see." 

The  little  group  from  whom  the  colonel  had  sep- 
arated himself  by  only  a  few  feet  stood  with  pale 
faces  listening  to  this  dialogue  which  they  could  not 
help  hearing  distinctly.  Mrs.  Longley  was  about  to 
expostulate  with  him,  when  she  glanced  at  Priscy. 
Here  was  the  one  whose  right  it  was  to  speak  and 
whose  plea  would  be  most  effective. 

The  girl  had  come  forward  until  she  stood  at  her 
father's  elbow.  He  did  not  seem  to  see  her;  perhaps 
he  did  not  know  she  was  there.  Her  face  was  color- 
less; her  eyes  fixed  upon  him  with  a  dread  in  their 
intentness — a  horror  of  the  danger  to  him  of  which 
she  had  heard;  her  lips  were  parted  and  she  seemed 
struggling  for  words  that  would  not  come.  As  the 
aeronaut  accepted  her  father's  offer  with  enthusiasm, 
she  put  out  her  hand  to  lay  it  upon  Colonel  Pell's 
sleeve;  then,  when  she  had  all  but  reached  him,  she 
drew  it  back  again;  she  feared  that  he  would  repel 
her,  and,  more  than  this,  that  he  would  not  listen  to 
her.  Yet  she  could  not  go  away. 

"  I'll  come  with  you,  Burnham,"  he  said.  "  Have 
you  the  instruments  here  ?  "  And  as  the  other  assented, 
the  colonel  moved  nearer  the  balloon. 

Then  Priscy  cried :  "  Oh,  no !  no !  Don't  go !  I  beg 
you  will  not  go  up — Colonel  Pell ! " 

As  she  was  speaking  he  had  turned  and  looked  at 
her,  and  the  word  "  father,"  that  she  had  been  about 
to  utter,  died  on  her  lips,  killed  by  the  steely  gleam  in 


XXVIII 
MONSIEUR  L'TMPREVU 

"WHAT'S  the  matter  with  him?  Why  doesn't  he 
ask  her,  and  have  done  with  it?  "  inquired  Rex  in  an 
aside  to  Ned  the  evening  before  the  balloon  ascension, 
when  the  two  young  men  had  returned  from  a  distant 
and  covert  inspection  of  Professor  Griswold  and  Miss 
Knowles  seated  upon  one  of  the  veranda  benches  where 
the  light  was  somewhat  dim. 

"  How  do  you  know  he  has  not  ? "  returned  the 
latter. 

"  Look  at  them ! "  said  Rex  for  answer,  pushing 
Ned  toward  the  window  from  which  could  be  caught  a 
fair  view  of  the  pair  in  question.  "  I'm  not  spying, 
Longley,  you  know.  I  just  happened  to  walk  past  in 
plain  sight  a  few  minutes  ago,  and  they  were  talking 
in  audible  tones,  though,  I  must  say,  they  both  appeared 
to  be  enjoying  themselves." 

"  The  '  audible  tones '  may  have  been  for  your  bene- 
fit." 

"  I  think  not.  I  heard  them  from  quite  a  distance. 
They  were  on  the  subject  of  the  play,  however,  and  it 
ought  to  be  a  straight  run  from  that.  I  do  wish  he'd 
hurry  up.  My  congratulations  are  all  in  type — in  my 
head,  I  mean — and  if  they  have  to  wait  long,  they'll  be 
sure  to  get  knocked  into  pi — I  shall  have  to  use  the 
ideas  for  something  else,  you  see." 

305 


3o6      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

Ned  laughed.  "  I  think  you'll  have  a  few  left  over," 
he  remarked 

The  young  men  moved  away  again  from  the  win- 
dow overlooking  the  lovers.  As  Rex  had  said,  they 
were  not  spies ;  they  only  tqok  a  peep  once  in  a  while, 
to  find  out  if  things  were  going  all  right?  They 
slipped  into  the  room  with  the  others  again,  and  in  the 
colonel's  talk  about  aerial  conveyances  forgot  for  the 
time  even  the  hoped-for  courtship,  until  half  an  hour 
later  Miss  Knowles  and  her  companion  joined  the 
group  in  the  parlors. 

Rex  and  Ned  had  been  right  in  believing  that  the 
subject  of  the  play  might  have  suggestions  encourag- 
ing to  the  professor.  But  it  was  in  accordance  with 
his  natural  humility  that  the  first  of  these  should  bring 
him  face  to  face  with  his  own  mistakes. 

"  Those  young  people  had  a  really  clever  idea  in 
their  play,"  he  was  saying  to  his  companion  at  the  mo- 
ment that  Rex  walked  by.  "  We  are  all  too  prone  to 
take  things  for  granted." 

"Yes — sometimes,"  assented  Miss  Knowles,  her 
face  burning  in  the  darkness  as  she  recalled  Miss  Par- 
ker's mocking  speech  in  regard  to  one's  taking  it  for 
granted  that  she  is  engaged.  For  it  was  too  true  that 
Miss  Knowles  had  believed  herself  virtually  engaged 
to  the  man  now  by  her  side ;  and  that  he,  like  the  Mr. 
Graham  of  the  play,  had  been  attracted  by  some  beauty 
of  whom  she  knew  nothing,  only  that  she  was  not  Pro- 
fessor Griswold's  sister-in-law ;  for  he  had  no  brother. 
He  had  never  been  bound  to  herself  in  actual  words, 
only  in  honor ;  and  he  had  deserted  her  because  he  had 
preferred  some  one  else,  she  told  herself  as  she  sat 


MONSIEUR   L'IMPREVU  307 

there.  One  did  not  have  to  take  so  plain  a  truth  as 
that  for  granted. 

And  then  she  heard  the  voice  at  her  side  saying :  "  I 
took  it  for  granted  that  you  would  remember  what  I 
had  told  you  of  my  cousin  Edna  who  was  brought  up 
with  me  like  a  sister." 

"  Your  cousin  ?  "  questioned  his  listener.  "  I  never 
heard  of  her  before  in  my  life,  Professor  Griswold. 
But  you  were  not  bound  to  tell  me  of  your  cousins — 
or,  indeed,  of  any  of  your  friends." 

"Ah!  As  I  said,  I  took  it  for  granted  that  I  had 
told  you,"  he  repeated.  "  I  quite  forgot  you  did  not 
know.  You  have  so  much  to  forgive  me  for,  I  wonder 
if  you  can  ever  do  it?  " 

"  I  have  nothing  to  forgive  you  for,"  she  answered, 
her  heart  beating  fast  that  he  should  come  to  asking 
her  that.  "  You  are,  certainly,  free  to  do  as  you  please. 
What  right  have  I  to  dictate  what  you  shall  tell  me — 
or  any  one  ?  " 

"  Ah ! "  he  cried,  and  turned  to  her  eagerly.  "  What 
right,  you  say?  Why,  don't  you  know?  Don't  you 
understand  that " 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  a  strange  voice  as  its 
owner  came  suddenly  upon  the  two  and  stood  looking 
at  them  with  disconcerting  keenness.  "I  was  trying 
to  find  friends  here,  and  thought  I  had  found  them.  It 
is  so  dark  one  can't  recognize  anybody — convenient, 
perhaps ! "  muttered  the  voice  trailing  off  into  the  dis- 
tance. 

"Let  us  go  into  the  house,"  said  Miss  Knowles 
rising. 

"  Oh,  not  quite  yet,  I  beg  of  you,"  pleaded  the  other. 


308      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

But  she  was  already  moving  toward  the  open  door  of 
the  hotel,  and  the  professor  followed  reluctantly. 

"Do  you  think  they've  settled  it?"  Grace  asked 
her  brother  as  the  two  stood  together  after  the 
evening's  talk  with  Colonel  Pell. 

"  I  hope  not,"  returned  Ned.  "  The  poor  professor 
looks  so  disconsolate,  that  if  it  has  been  settled,  it  must 
be  the  wrong  way." 

"Dear!  dear!  You're  a  comforting  fellow,  to  be 
sure ! "  cried  Grace.  "  Anyway,  you  boys  will  have  to 
fix  it  up  somehow." 

"  Better  leave  it  to  the  other  boy,"  said  Jimmy  com- 
ing up  at  the  moment  with  a  merry  smile. 

"What  other  boy,  Jimmy?" 

"Why!  Cupid,  to  be  sure!" 

"  How  stupid  I  am !  "  And  Grace  ran  off  to  get  the 
night's  sleep  which,  she  declared,  would  sharpen  her 
wits. 

In  spite  of  the  professor's  interest  in  science,  he  had 
heard  but  little  of  the  fascinating  discussion  of  the 
evening.  Why  had  Miss  Knowles  got  up  and  left  him 
just  as  she  must  have  known  he  was  going  to  speak  of 
what  was  nearest  in  the  world  to  him?  Had  she 
really  not  known  it?  Or  had  she  wanted  to  be  rid  of 
it  ?  Back  and  forth  in  his  brain — or  perhaps  it  was  in 
his  heart — swung  these  two  questions,  like  the  oscil- 
lations of  a  pendulum,  bringing  ever  nearer  the  in- 
evitable hour  when  something  would  be  decided.  In 
ways  of  wooing,  the  poor  man,  surely,  was  timid.  Yet, 
he  was  no  coward;  and  deeper  than  his  uncertainty 
was  the  certainty  that  in  some  way  he  must  get  at 


MONSIEUR  L'IMPREVU  309 

her  decision.  Then  he  realized  that  this  was  not  what 
was  troubling  him,  but  how  to  make  that  decision 
favorable? 

He  studied  on  it  all  night;  and  then  made  up  his 
mind  that  it  must  be  like  a  mooted  question  in  history 
— his  strong  point;  one  must  secure  all  the  data  pos- 
sible, until  the  desired  conclusion,  or  at  least  some 
conclusion,  can  be  reached. 

As  for  Miss  Knowles,  she  did  not  hear  a  word  of 
balloons  and  airships;  it  was  of  her  own  ship  alone, 
tossed  on  the  ocean  of  fate,  that  she  thought.  Neither 
did  she  sleep,  tortured  by  doubt  as  to  whether  she  had 
done  wisely  in  not  listening  to  what  he  had  to  say 
when  it  might  have  been  another  taking  for  granted 
what  would  never  come,  or  by  refusing  to  listen  had 
cut  herself  off  from  a  joy  that  she  told  herself  she 
dared  not  dream  of,  and  yet  did  dream  of — until  the 
little  god  Cupid  of  whose  aid  Jimmy  had  been  so  con- 
fident, laughed  as  he  shot  his  arrows  with  a  sure  hand. 

The  following  morning  at  breakfast  keen  eyes 
studied  the  faces  of  the  professor  and  Miss  Knowles. 

"  Professor  Griswold,"  began  Ned  breaking  a  mo- 
mentary silence,  "  nobody  has  asked  you  about  our 
little  fDah-dah,'  as  we  thought  she  called  herself. 
She's  all  right,  I  hope?  We  all  grew  fond  of  her  in 
the  few  days  she  was  a  stray  baby — especially  Miss 
Knowles  who  wouldn't  let  her  out  of  her  sight.  I 
know  she  misses  her,  though  she's  brave  and  won't 
own  it." 

"  I  rejoice  that  Bab  and  her  mamma  have  found 
each  other,"  said  Miss  Knowles. 


3io      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"Yes,  indeed!  We  know  how  unselfish  you  are," 
agreed  Ned.  "  But,  professor,  you  ought  to  be  jeal- 
ous of  Brooke  here."  The  professor  swept  a  quick 
glance  from  Miss  Knowles  to  the  questioning  Rex  and 
nearly  upset  the  decorum  of  his  watchers  by  the 
anxiety  it  expressed.  "Yes,"  the  speaker  went  on, 
"  you  must  be  jealous  of  Brooke,  for  Bab  would  call 
him,  *  unc !  unc ! '  and,  evidently,  took  him  for  your- 
self." 

"  Oh ! "  said  the  professor  in  a  tone  of  infinite  relief. 
"  I'm  flattered,  I'm  sure."  And  he  nodded  at  Rex. 

"  And  then  she  called  Miss  Knowles  *  auntie,  auntie/ 
in  her  charming  little  attempts  at  speech,"  went  on 
Ned.  "The  rest  of  us  she  tolerated,  but  those  two 
she  simply  adored.  You'd  have  thought  more  of  her 
than  ever  if  only  you  had  heard  her  '  unc !  unc !  auntie ! 
auntie!'" 

"  To  be  sure,  I  should,"  answered  the  other  turning 
his  gaze  from  Ned  to  fix  it  on  "  auntie "  who  sat 
entirely  absorbed  in  her  breakfast  which  in  an  un- 
accountable way  was  making  her  face  very  red. 

Finally,  she  glanced  up  at  Ned.  "  What  a  tease  you 
are ! "  she  remarked  with  a  smile  intended  to  dismiss 
the  subject.  And  it  did  from  immediate  discussion. 

Later  though,  when  "auntie"  and  the  professor 
gravitated  to  a  seat  in  a  quiet  corner  of  the  veranda — 
for  in  fair  weather  the  veranda  is  the  pleasantest  part 
of  a  summer  hotel — the  charms  of  Bab  formed  a  bond 
of  union  and  were  discussed  with  an  interest  that  made 
the  subject  mutually  delightful ;  and,  as  Miss  Knowles 
assured  herself,  safe.  She  expatiated  upon  her  affec- 


MONSIEUR   L'IMPREVU  311 

tion  for  Bab  and  her  secret  resolve  to  adopt  the  little 
one  sooner  than  have  had  her  turned  adrift.  And 
with  every  word  she  uttered  her  hearer  was  the  more 
in  love  with  her.  Indeed,  they  were  so  agreeably  occu- 
pied that  it  was  with  secret  regret  on  the  part  of  both 
that  the  talk  was  broken  into  to  accompany  the  others 
to  the  balloon  ascension.  But  Miss  Knowles  would 
never  have  the  professor  imagine  that  she  preferred 
his  society  to  a  scientific  entertainment.  He,  surely, 
must  want  to  go.  And  he  had  no  choice  but  to  follow 
her  lead. 

On  the  way  Jimmy  bringing  his  cycle  to  Grace's 
side,  remarked  that,  as  he  had  predicted,  Cupid  seemed 
to  be  getting  in  a  good  many  arrows. 

"  Ned  helped  him  aim  them,  I  suspect,"  laughed 
Grace.  At  which  Jimmy  declared  that  human  aid  was 
always  acceptable. 

That  evening  when  the  party  were  miles  distant 
from  the  scene  of  the  morning,  Lulu  beginning  to  go 
through  one  of  the  wooded  paths  near  the  house, 
turned  back  suddenly.  "  Hush !  hush ! "  she  said,  and 
pushed  backward  those  behind  her  until  the  little  group 
stood  again  on  the  steps  of  the  hotel. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?  "  asked  Grace. 

Lulu  put  her  finger  on  her  lips.  Then  with  a  face 
of  delighted  amusement,  she  said  softly: 

"They're  down  there  on  one  of  the  benches  under 
the  trees ;  but  they've  forgotten  the  electric  light.  She 
seems  to  be  crying.  But  I  imagine  it's  all  right ;  for 
her  head  is  on  his  shoulder  and  his  arm  is  about  her 


312      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S    VACATION 

and  he's  wiping  away  the  tears.  They  must  be  tears 
of  joy." 

"  Miss  Bromley,  did  you  ever  weep  tears  of  joy?" 
asked  Rex  when  the  laughter  and  comment  had  some- 
what subsided. 

"  Indeed,  I  did,  Mr.  Brooke.  I  remember  well.  It 
was  when  I  held  in  my  hand  the  first  money  I  ever 
earned,  and  it  was  to  help  me  stay  at  school." 

There  was  an  instant's  silence.  Rex's  eyes  had 
never  shone  with  a  softer  brightness.  In  another  mo- 
ment he  turned  away. 

The  betrothed  lovers  agreed  to  keep  their  engage- 
ment a  complete  secret  until  the  professor  should  be 
about  to  leave  the  party;  but  it  seemed  to  them  that 
the  kindness  of  their  friends  deserved  that  then  these 
should  be  taken  into  confidence. 

As  that  night  the  professor  from  his  window  looked 
out  upon  the  stars,  he  had  no  speculations  as  to  the 
mysteries  of  the  planet  worlds  and  their  possible  in- 
habitants. It  was  rather  as  a  lover  who  sees  in  the 
glorious  procession  of  the  heavens  his  own  bright  star 
of  joy  moving  with  untroubled  assurance  on  its  course 
that  he  watched  the  majestic  panorama.  As  he  stood 
there  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  star  of  his  own  destiny 
had  mounted  through  fair  skies  with  as  little  of  his 
personal  volition  as  the  sweep  of  the  constellations. 

"  So  easy ! "  he  murmured.  "  And  I  thought  it  in- 
finitely difficult!  Why  need  I  have  tortured  myself  so 
long  in  douljt  and  pain  ?  "  After  a  pause  in  which  the 
beauty  and  goodness  of  Miss  Knowles  had  been  raptur- 
ously dwelt  upon,  he  added  in  a  burst  of  self-commun- 


MONSIEUR   L'IMPREVU  313 

ing :  "  Yet  I  shall  always  be  grateful  to  these  bright 
children  who  with  perfect  unconsciousness  of  the  situ- 
ation pointed  out  from  their  own  ideals  the  terrible 
risks  of  too  much  taking  for  granted.  That  was  my 
stumbling  block!  But  none  except  Anna  will  ever 
dream  of  it." 

And  he  slept  the  sleep  of  the  optimist. 


XXIX 

VICTORY 

IT  seemed  to  the  young  girl  gazing  up  into  the  sky 
at  the  fast  disappearing  balloon  which  soared  until  it 
was  a  speck  in  the  distance  and  then  was  lost  in  clouds, 
that  the  mystery  of  these  clouds  would  swallow  it  up 
forever.  She  foresaw  only  how  in  its  descent  the 
ocean  would  engulf  it,  or  it  would  be  dashed  to  pieces 
on  the  rocks,  or  dragged  with  fury  over  the  tops  of 
forest  trees,  in  every  event  hurling  out  the  inmates  of 
the  car  to  death. 

"Lost!  lost!"  she  moaned  still  gazing  upward 
where  now  nothing  of  the  aeronauts  was  to  be  seen. 
Her-  hand  gripped  Dorothy's  arm  thrown  about  her 
and  for  an  instant  her  head  rested  on  the  other's 
shoulder,  but  only  because  a  wave  of  faintness  had! 
come  over  her.  When  that  had  passed  she  stood  erect 
again,  and  would  have  drawn  away  entirely  had  Doro- 
thy suffered  it. 

"  No !  no !  Not  lost  by  any  means !  He  will  come 
back  to  you,  Pell-Mell,  dear.  Don't  despair.  I  feel 
sure » 

" I'm  not  thinking  of  his  coming  back  to  me"  said 
the  girl  in  a  dull  tone  that  went  to  her  listener's  heart. 
"That  will  never  be.  I  have  lost  him  forever.  But 
if  he  would  come  back  at  all  and  I  knew  he  was  living, 

314 


VICTORY  315 

that  would  be  so  much.  But  he  never  will — I  know  it, 
Dorothy." 

"  Indeed,  you  don't  know  any  such  thing,  Pell-Mell. 
It's  only  because  you're  so  anxious  that  you  think  so." 
Yet  even  as  she  spoke,  she  pressed  Priscy  to  her  more 
closely,  suddenly  recalling  the  warning  of  the  other 
aeronaut.  Yet  the  balloon  was  dirigible. 

Priscy  made  no  answer;  she  stood  there  as  if  she 
had  not  even  power  to  walk,  until  Mrs.  Longley  also 
put  an  arm  about  her  and  with  Dorothy  led  her  to  the 
waiting  motor  car. 

On  the  way  back  to  the  hotel  where  Colonel  Pell 
had  deputed  to  Ned  certain  arrangements  with  the 
manager,  she  did  not  speak,  and  it  seemed  to  them  all 
kindest  to  leave  her  undisturbed,  save  by  the  troubled 
thoughts  which  they  could  not  dissipate. 

As  they  alighted,  she  grasped  Dorothy's  arm  and 
drew  her  apart  from  the  others.  "  I  cannot  wait 
here !  "  said  she  breathlessly.  "  I  must  go  on.  I  must 
see  what  becomes  of  him — I  must,  Dorothy.  I  shall 
hire  a  car  here  at  the  hotel.  I  have  some  money — no 
one  can  say  that  my  father  was  not  generous  to  me  in 
this — and  I  shall  follow  on  the  direction  that  the  bal- 
loon went,  so  nearly  as  we  can  find  out,  and  be  as  close 
to  it  as  I  can  when  it  comes  down;  if  that  is  in  the 
ocean,  I'll  get  a  boat  and  go.  Will  you  go  with  me, 
Dorothy,  darling?"  She  put  her  arms  about  her 
friend's  neck,  and  with  a  sob  dropped  her  head  on 
Dorothy's  shoulder.  "  I  don't  want  to  be  alone,"  she 
whispered. 

"Why,  Pell-Mell,  of  course,  you  shall  not!    We'll 


316      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S   VACATION 

all  go  with  you.  I'm  sure  Mrs.  Longley  will  say  so. 
Shall  I  run  and  ask  her,  dearie?  Wait  here  a  mo- 
ment." 

Dorothy  was  right.  Everybody  sympathized ;  every- 
body approved  of  the  suggestion.  Dorothy  came  run- 
ning back.  "  We'll  all  be  off,  Pell-Mell,  as  soon  as  we 
can  pick  up  our  things,"  she  said;  "and  that  can't 
take  long,  you  know,  for  we  didn't  unpack  here." 

The  young  men  had  noticed  a  motor  car  which  had 
started  as  soon  as  the  balloon  had  begun  to  ascend  and 
had  seemed  to  be  following  its  direction;  Ned  and 
Jimmy  had  watched  it  out  of  sight.  By  following  the 
same  road,  their  party  might  learn  somewhat  of  this 
motor  car,  and  by  it  of  the  balloon.  It  was  worth 
trying ;  and  for  lack  of  better  information  they  did  try 
it.  It  was  that  same  evening  that,  wholly  uncertain 
of  the  fate  of  the  balloon  and  with  no  absolute  infor- 
mation that  they  had  been  following  its  course,  yet 
believing  this  from  what  facts  and  rumors  they  had 
been  able  to  gather,  they  halted  for  the  night  at  a 
country  hotel  on  their  route.  This  place  was  made 
memorable  to  Professor  Griswold  and  Miss  Knowles 
by  the  betrothal  which  but  for  untoward  accident, 
would  have  taken  place  two  years  before. 

While  they  were  rejoicing  in  their  newly  found  hap- 
piness, Priscy  was  in  her  room  answering  in  mono- 
syllables the  few  solicitous  and  reassuring  words  that 
Dorothy  spoke  as  she  sat  beside  the  poor  girl  waiting 
in  misery  through  the  long  hours  of  the  night  until 
daylight  would  permit  the  search  to  begin  again.  Priscy 


VICTORY  317 

knew  that  to-morrow  there  would  be  some  news. 
What  ?  "I  shall  never  see  him  again ! "  she  said  at 
last  in  answer  to  the  comfort  her  companion  strove  to 
give  her.  Dorothy  begged  to  be  allowed  to  spend  the 
night  with  her;  she  was  sure  that  Priscy  would  sleep 
little,  if  at  all.  But  the  latter  said  that  she  would 
rather  be  alone,  and  at  midnight  Dorothy  left  her,  with 
Priscy's  words  that  her  father  was  lost  ringing  in  her 
ears  and,  in  spite  of  her  better  faith,  sounding  to  her 
like  the  knell  of  hope. 

Early  the  following  morning  Rex  knocked  at  her 
door.  "  Dress  and  come  down,"  he  said.  "  The  fel- 
lows are  there ;  and  we  want  to  tell  you  before  Priscy 
comes  down  what  we've  heard.  Hurry." 

"  Oh,  Rex,  call  it  through  the  door  while  I'm  dress- 
ing," she  said. 

But  the  next  moment  she  heard  departing  footsteps. 
How  quiet  they  were;  and  Rex  was  not  given  to 
stealthiness.  It  must  be  something  bad  which  Priscy 
was  not  to  know  until  it  could  not  be  kept  from  her, 
or  until  the  rumors  were  confirmed.  She  was  filled 
with  dread,  and  creeping  softly  downstairs,  for  Priscy's 
room  was  at  the  end  of  the  corridor,  she  ran  out  to  the 
group  standing  under  the  elm  tree  at  the  side  of  the 
house  and  out  of  sight  from  Pell-Mell's  windows. 

Jimmy  came  forward  to  greet  her.  "  Ned  was  up 
before  the  sun,  and  has  been  telephoning  ever  since," 
he  said.  "  They've  been  out  all  night ;  they  must  have 
had  a  fearful  time  of  it.  They  are  away  off  from  a 
telephone.  Ned  could  not  get  much  satisfaction.  But 
we  suppose  the  steering  gear  gave  out  and  they  were 


318      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S   VACATION 

afraid  to  come  down  in  the  night.  Ned  caught  some- 
thing about  their  being  swept  out  to  sea  and  then 
driven  back ;  but  he  couldn't  be  sure  what  it  was.  We 
don't  think  the  people  who  told  us  were." 

"  Where  is  Ned  ?  "  asked  Dorothy  hoping  to  gather 
a  few  details. 

"Here  he  comes.  He  went  back  to  try  again  for 
something  more  definite." 

She  went  forward  to  meet  him.  "  Is  anybody — is 
Colonel  Pell  hurt?"  she  asked,  her  heart  full  of  the 
foreboding  of  his  daughter's  words. 

"  It  looks  bad ;  but  we  can't  find  out,"  he  answered. 
"Colonel  Pell " 

At  the  moment  they  turned  at  a  light  sound — to  see 
Priscy  wide-eyed  and  intent  coming  toward  them. 

"  You  have  news,"  she  said.  "  Tell  me  everything." 
He  gave  her  the  meagre  news.  She  made  neither  com- 
ment nor  exclamation,  but  turned  to  Dorothy.  "  You 
will  go  with  me?"  she  asked.  "You  will  take  me  to 
him  now?"  she  said  to  Ned. 

"  We'll  start  at  once,"  he  answered,  and  was  turn- 
ing away  to  get  car  and  chauffeur,  when  Rex  cried : 

"  No !  no !  Don't  wait  to  ring  up  your  man,  Long- 
ley.  You  and  I  will  take  them  over.  I'll  have  the 
car  here  in  no  time.  Girls,  run  and  get  your  wraps. 
Reid,  will  you  come?  And,  Dorothy,  leave  word  for 
Mrs.  Longley,  please,  where  we've  gone." 

It  was  almost  literally  "  in  no  time  "  that  the  car 
was  spinning  over  the  road  to  the  place  at  which,  so 
far  as  they  could  learn,  the  balloon  had  descended,  or 
was  in  some  way  caught  in  the  tree-tops. 


VICTORY  319 

When  the  balloon  had  begun  to  lift  itself  into  the 
air,  Colonel  Pell  from  its  car  had  bent  down  in  obedi- 
ence to  Dorothy's  call  and  gazed  into  the  face  of  his 
daughter. 

The  next  instant  he  had  been  swept  out  of  the  sight 
of  that  imploring  face  which  he  seemed  to  be  still 
viewing  in  a  startled  wonder.  In  the  instant  that  he 
had  seen  her  there  had  risen  up  before  him  the  counte- 
nance of  her  mother,  the  young  wife  once  so  beautiful 
and  so  passionately  loved.  The  two  faces  had  mingled 
into  one  in  his  vision.  Then  it  was  Priscy's  which 
remained  with  him.  In  his  new  insight  he  marvelled 
that  he  who  had  been  able  to  read  signs  in  earth  and 
sky,  had  found  his  daughter's  heart  beyond  him.  Poor 
child!  He  had  still  been  cruel  to  her,  although  no 
longer  neglectful  or  indifferent.  But  the  wrong  had 
been  his  in  former  negligence  and  indifference,  and 
his  should  have  been  the  yielding  as  a  partial  atone- 
ment. Instead,  his  vanity  had  clung  to  his  reputation 
in  the  eyes  of  the  world  which  he  had  decided  ought 
to  have  earned  him  deference  from  her.  It  had  not 
been  so;  she  deferred  only  to  character.  Proud  and 
true!  The  further  the  sweep  of  the  balloon  carried 
him  away  from  her  the  nearer  to  his  heart  seemed  her 
high-mindedness.  He  would  see  her  again  when  he 
came  down. 

When  he  came  down!  That  might  be  in  guise  in 
which  he  would  seek  nobody  again  forever.  For, 
suddenly,  the  warning  of  his  companion  stood  out  to 
him.  There  were  certain  discoveries  in  regard  to 
upper  air  temperatures  and  currents  and  other  matters 


320      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

at  present  unknown  to  be  made,  if  possible,  in  this 
voyage,  Burnham  had  said — discoveries  that  might  be 
at  risk  of  limb,  even  of  life.  The  moment  before  start- 
ing, Pell  in  bitterness  of  spirit  had  been  ready  for  the 
risk,  not  required  of  him  as  the  other  had  reminded 
him.  But  now,  in  the  vision  of  that  pale,  upturned 
face  with  a  terror  in  it  which  could  only  spring  from 
love  for  him — her  father — life  had  gained  a  new  sweet- 
ness. The  dream  of  taking  charge  of  his  daughter,  of 
having  her  affection  minister  to  his  happiness  in  his 
later  years,  warmed  his  heart  more  than  all  his  scien- 
tific successes  had  done.  If  he  had  but  known  in  time ! 

"  What  is  the  temperature  ?  "  asked  Burnham.  "  We 
must  be  over  a  mile  up  already.  So  far,  the  wind  has 
been  lighter  than  I  expected." 

The  question  brought  Colonel  Pell  back  to  the  pres- 
ent with  its  demands  and  its  possibilities. 

The  sky  was  of  the  deepest  blue ;  the  air  crisp ;  the 
balloon,  constantly  mounting,  now  began  to  feel  a 
strong  current  and  skimmed  forward  on  the  wings  of 
the  wind.  Then  the  voyagers  passed  through  dense 
masses  of  cloud,  through  snow  and  hail  which  were  so 
high  up  that  they  never  fell  upon  the  earth  at  all. 
From  this  they  rose  into  a  stratum  of  warmer  air 
such  as  aeronauts  had  noted  before  at  certain  altitudes 
coming  between  the  two  colder  strata.  Here  they  dis- 
covered a  rent  in  the  silk,  at  the  moment  small,  but 
threatening  to  increase  in  size  and  bring  about  the  col- 
lapse of  the  balloon  if  it  became  large.  Colonel  Pell 
seized  a  rope  and  knotting  it  into  a  kind  of  ratline, 
climbed  up  on  the  rigging  and  thus  hanging  thousands 


VICTORY  321 

of  feet  in  air  between  heaven  and  earth,  succeeded  in 
pulling  the  rent  together  and  fastening  it  with  a 
smaller  rope. 

They  now  rose  into  piercing  winds  which  increased 
to  a  terrific  hurricane  sweeping  forward  their  aerial 
ship  at  a  fearful  pace.  They  were  about  four  miles 
above  the  earth  and  driving  on,  until  they  feared  that 
the  ocean  was  beneath  them.  But  something  in  the 
steering  apparatus  had  given  way;  the  balloon  was 
no  longer  dirigible,  but  was  at  the  mercy  of  the  winds. 
The  travelers,  could  but  hope  to  meet  a  counter  cur- 
rent on  a  different  level  and  be  driven  back  again.  But 
when,  at  last,  this  came,  they  were  chilled  to  the  bone, 
wearied  with  the  rarefied  air  of  the  great  height,  cut 
off  from  earth  by  a  veil  of  clouds  that  seemed  to  have 
no  opening,  and  the  sun  which  at  that  altitude  shone 
upon  them  much  longer  than  upon  that  part  of  the 
earth  below  them,  was  fast  sinking.  Unable  to  see 
anything  of  the  earth  through  the  clouds,  unable  to 
guide  the  balloon  in  its  crippled  condition,  or  to  direct 
its  descent,  and  ignorant  whether  they  were  over  land, 
or  sea,  there  was  nothing  for  them  to  do  but  remain 
in  the  air  until  morning.  So  they  drove  on  through 
the  moonless  darkness  which  seemed  to  envelop  them 
like  a  wall  of  ebony;  and,  as  they  were  sinking,  to 
avoid  coming  to  earth  they  threw  out  ballast,  and  ris- 
ing to  a  vast  height  once  more,  they  sailed  on. 

All  at  once  came  a  sound  like  an  explosion  overhead, 
the  silk  of  their  balloon  cracked  violently,  and  the  car 
jerked  as  if  it  had  dropped  from  its  fastenings.  For 
the  few  moments  before  they  realized  that  the  expan- 


322      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

sion  of  the  silk  and  the  network  in  the  lighter  air  had 
caused  this  sound  horrible  in  the  stillness  of  space,  both 
believed  that  the  balloon  had  exploded  and  that  they 
were  rushing  headlong  to  earth. 

Burnham  sprang  up  and  would  have  thrown  out 
every  pound  of  ballast  left,  if  his  companion  had  not 
caught  his  arm. 

"No!  no!  Not  yet,"  he  said.  "Wait."  And  he 
explained  the  noise. 

Burnham  sank  back  with  an  exclamation  of  relief; 
and  the  ship  of  the  air  still  drove  onward  through  the 
blackness  and  wind,  the  voyagers  watching  eagerly  for 
the  early  summer  dawn.  t 

With  this  began  their  descent. 

Land,  and  not  ocean,  was  beneath  them  as  they 
came  closer  and  closer  to  earth — too  rapidly  for  those 
who  could  not  foresee  or  control  the  place  where  they 
were  to  alight.  Houses,  trees,  rocks,  fields  seemed  to 
rise  toward  them,  ever  nearer  and  nearer.  When  the 
spot  over  which  they  were  falling  seemed  especially 
perilous,  they  threw  out  ballast  and  rose  again,  but 
not  high.  Once  more  they  swept  on,  now  in  a  light 
wind,  until  the  grapnels  dragged  along  the  upper 
branches  of  the  tall  trees  of  a  wood  and  the  balloon 
still  borne  onward,  threatened  to  overturn  the  car  and 
hurl  the  inmates  to  ground  at  certain  injury  to  limb, 
or  even  life. 

Then  Colonel  Pell  sprang  forward. 

When  Priscy  and  her  friends  arrived  on  the  spot, 
they  were  greeted  by  the  spokesman  of  the  eager  crowd 


VICTORY  323 

that  had  gathered  about  the  edge  of  the  wood  where, 
in  one  of  the  largest  trees,  the  car  of  the  aeronauts 
was  still  wedged  while  men  had  rushed  to  secure  the 
ropes  thrown  out  by  which  it  could  be  drawn  to  the 
ground. 

"  He  cut  them  ropes  like  a  flash,"  he  announced  to 
the  newcomers,  "  an'  that  there  car  settled  in  them 
high  boughs;  before,  it  was  goin'  like  mad  an'  would 
a-tipped  bottom  up;  an'  that'd  a-bin  the  end  of  them 
fellers.  'Twas  lucky  Bill  was  round ;  he  stood  a-watch- 
in'  when  the  taller  one  up  there — Pell's  his  name — 
yelled  out  to  him  to  catch  a-holt  of  the  rope  a-draggin' 
from  the  balloon  an'  wind  it  round  an'  round  the  tree, 
so  as  the  thing  couldn't  git  away ;  'twas  plungin'  like  a 
good  one.  An'  then,  jist  as  quick's  Bill  had  it  tight  in 
his  hand — sheer  went  the  ropes  the  thing  was  a-tuggin' 
at  to  pull  them  fellers  up  to  the  sky  again;  an'  down 
the  basket  ker-plunked  inter  the  tree.  I  thought  they'd 
both  of  'em  be  pitched  to  Jericho;  but  I  s'pose  they 
have  a  way  of  holdin'  onter  anythin'.  Anyhow,  there 
they  be,  safe  an'  sound ;  an'  I  reckon  when  that  there 
basket,  or  car,  of  theirn  slides  down  here — an'  it's 
a-comin'  now — they  won't  feel  bad  to  stretch  their 
legs  on  terry-firmy  again ! " 

As  Colonel  Pell  stepped  from  the  car,  his  eyes 
swept  the  waiting  crowd,  and  lighted  upon  Rex's 
motor  car  on  the  outskirts,  and  empty.  The  occu- 
pants had  pressed  well  into  the  crowd. 

And  even  as  his  foot  touched  the  ground,  Priscy 
breaking  away  from  her  companions,  ran  up  to  him. 

"  Father ! "  she  cried — then  paused  and  looked  at 


324      DOROTHY   BROOKE'S   VACATION 

him  anxiously.  He  answered  her  gaze  by  a  long, 
intent  look  into  her  uplifted  eyes  full  of  eager  affection 
yet  with  a  growing  timidity  in  them  as  if  she  feared  he 
would  repulse  her.  Then,  without  a  word,  he  opened 
his  arms  to  her,  and  the  next  moment  she  was  folded 
in  them. 

"  Do  you  forgive  me,  father?  "  she  whispered. 

"Do  you  forgive  me,  my  daughter?"  he  whispered 
back. 

"And  you  really  love  me,  father — at  last?"  she 
whispered  once  more,  looking  up  at  him  with  shining 
eyes. 

"Earth  can  give  me  nothing  dearer  than  my  little 
daughter's  love,"  he  breathed  back  softly,  dropping  a 
kiss  upon  her  hair. 

"  I  think  it's  Heaven  gives  that,"  she  answered. 

"  Yes,"  he  said.  And  before  releasing  her,  he  looked 
over  her  head  and  smiled  at  Dorothy  who  at  his  look 
drew  nearer. 

"I  owe  it  all  to  you,"  he  said  gratefully.  "Your 
soldier  has  captured  the  besieged  city." 

Priscy  stood  watching  them.  Then  her  eyes  rested 
upon  her  father. 

He  slipped  his  hand  within  her  arm  and,  after  a  few 
words  with  Burnham,  walked  with  her  and  Dorothy 
to  the  others. 

"  Are  you  going  to  invite  me  back  to  breakfast  ?  "  he 
asked  with  a  smile  as  he  greeted  them. 


XXX 

READY   FOR   WORK   AGAIN 

AGAIN  Dorothy  lay  in  the  hammock  under  the  trees 
in  her  own  home. 

But  now  it  was  into  the  September  sky  full  of  sun- 
shine that  she  looked.  The  delicious  air  mingling  sum- 
mer warmth  with  a  hint  of  the  vigor  of  the  coming 
season  had  in  it  a  spirit  in  accordance  with  her  own 
mood.  Her  thoughts  were  full  of  the  memories  and 
delights  of  the  summer ;  yet  something  more  than  play 
was  in  her  heart. 

Again,  as  in  June,  she  heard  on  the  road  and  coming 
up  the  driveway  the  "  honk !  honk ! "  of  Rex's  motor 
car;  and  again,  as  in  the  early  summer,  her  brother 
soon  afterward  appeared  on  the  pathway  to  her  ham- 
mock, and  Nemo  bounding  in  advance  with  a  joyous 
bark  of  greeting  thrust  his  head  up  insistently  under 
Dorothy's  hand.  Her  petting  of  him  was  the  more 
cordial  as  she  recalled  how  nearly  the  summer  had  lost 
him  to  them  all. 

"  You've  not  told  me  half  about  your  day  with  the 
children,"  she  said  as  he  threw  himself  down  under 
the  tree  next  her.  "  You  went  off  in  such  haste  the 
next  day,  and  I  feel  as  if  you'd  hardly  come  home  yet. 
Olive  and  Harry  were  so  patient  the  few  days  that 
Mrs.  Longley  and  the  others  were  with  us.  I  had  to 

325 


326      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S    VACATION 

threaten  to  tie  Lulu  to  make  her  stay  with  the  rest," 
she  added ;  "  but  I  was  bound  to  have  her.  And  when 
Colonel  Pell  came  to  escort  his  daughter  to  her  own 
home,  wasn't  Pell-Mell  a  happy  girl?  But  tell  me 
about  the  children,"  she  said  again. 

"  They  thought  they  were  paid  for  the  trip,"  said 
Rex.  "  From  sunrise  to  eleven  o'clock  at  night  they 
enjoyed  every  minute.  'Twas  jolly  to  see  them,  Doro. 
The  car  went  to  perfection.  We  had  a  swell  luncheon, 
Olive  ordering  it.  But  when  we  came  to  dinner  and 
it  was  Harry's  turn  to  order,  I  thought  there  wouldn't 
be  anything  left  in  the  hotel !  You  ought  to  have  seen 
the  waiter's  face;  I  had  to  explain  finally  that  it  was 
my  brother's  lark.  Then  they  couldn't  eat  a  tenth  of 
what  they  had;  but  Harry  remarked  it  was  good  to 
see  how  it  looked.  Nobody  had  allowed  him  a  free 
hand  before — and  it  would  be  well  to  wait  before  he 
has  it  again!"  laughed  Rex.  "They  tasted  as  many 
dishes  as  they  possibly  could,  just  for  the  fun  of  the 
thing.  I  felt  a  little  anxious  as  to  the  result  the  next 
morning ;  but,  you  know,  they  were  both  as  happy  as 
larks.  Olive  enthuses  still  over  the  beautiful  scenery 
and  the  fine  run  and  all  the  people  they  saw;  and, 
now-a-days,  Harry  feels  quite  grown  up.  'Twas  good 
fun,  Doro,  to  watch  how  keen  they  were  for  every- 
thing; everything  suited.  You  never  saw  better 
babes." 

"That's  true,"  answered  Dorothy  answering  his 
laugh  gravely. 

"What  a  pile!"  said  her  brother  glancing  at  her 
hand.  "  All  letters  ?" 


READY    FOR   WORK   AGAIN          327 

"  Yes.  I'm  looking  them  over  again  out  here.  Did 
mother  tell  you,"  she  went  on,  "  what  a  delightful  let- 
ter she  had  this  morning  from  Mrs.  Longley,  and 
what  good  babes  she  says  you  and  I  are,  Rex  ?  " 

"  She  quoted  it  to  me,"  he  answered.  "  I  shall  not 
dare  to  breathe  the  rest  of  my  life,  for  fear  of  spoiling 
my  record." 

"And  did  she  tell  you  about  her  other  letter?" 
asked  Dorothy  smiling  up  at  him. 

"  No.    What  was  it  ?  "  he  asked,  interested. 

"  From  Miss  Knowles." 

"  No  doubt,  she's  so  happy  billing  and  cooing  that 
she  has  to  have  somebody  sit  on  her  skirts  to  keep  her 
from  flying  away  with  the  wings  of  a  dove — or  in  an 
airship!" 

"  It's  a  good  deal  like  that,"  said  Dorothy.  "  But 
there's  one  page  I  must  get  mother  to  read  to  you.  It's 
where  Miss  Knowles  says  that  when  she  shall  have 
been  married  to  the  professor  a  year  and  a  day,  she 
will  tell  him  what  part  we — *  children ! ' — had  in  their 
reconciliation.  At  present  he's  so  unconscious  that  he 
philosophizes  over  'the  strange  coincidences/  and 
builds  theories  on  them." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  I'll  get  the  mater  to  read  me  the 
whole  letter !  "  cried  Rex.  "  It  will  stand  by  me  when 
I'm  blue.  Anna  is  a  good  little  soul,  after  all;  and 
there's  hope  of  her,  now  she  has  waked  up.  She  im- 
proved with  the  charge  of  Bab ;  and  since  she  and  the 
professor  have  settled  matters,  she's  too  happy  to  be 
very  fussy.  But  let's  hear  something  from  your  pile, 
Doro." 


328      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S   VACATION 

"  Here's  a  letter  from  Rose  Hewes,"  said  Dorothy. 
"You  know  she  is  in  the  city  studying  art  to  her 
heart's  content — and,  I  hear,  to  her  teachers'  content 
also. 

"'All  the  world  has  changed  to  me  since  I  came 
here  to  study/  she  writes.  '  Miss  Littleton  is  as  kind  to 
me  as  she  was  at  our  home.  She  encourages  me  and 
says  every  word  of  praise  must  mean  so  much  more 
hard  work,  and  that  some  day  I  shall  do  things  to 
count.  How  did  Mrs.  Brooke  ever  manage  to  get  my 
father  to  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  let  me  come 
here?  I  shall  never  forget  it.  And  then,  if  you  had 
not  asked  me  last  summer,  I  should  not  have  been 
here  to-day.  You  helped  me,  too,  in  another  way, 
without  knowing  it.  Now  I  don't  care  as  I  would  have 
done  once  when  people  round  me  put  on  airs  and  look 
down  on  me.  I  know  they're  the  trying-to-get-up  peo- 
ple, and  I  notice  how  different  they  are  from  the  real 
people,  like  you  and  the  rest  last  summer.' ' 

" '  The  trying-to-get-up  people  ' !  "  laughed  Rex.  "  I 
didn't  think  Rosy  was  so  clever.  But  these  quiet  lit- 
tle ones  are  deep." 

"  You're  flattered,"  said  his  sister  smiling  at  him. 

" '  But  when  I  tell  him  he  hates  flatterers '  "  she 

quoted. 

"  She  is  right,  all  the  same,"  insisted  Rex — "  and 
you  know  it." 

Dorothy  made  no  answer.  She  was  remembering 
her  struggle  to  invite  Rose,  and  feeling  that  she  had 
received  more  than  she  deserved.  But  it  was  a  com- 
fort that  they  had  been  able  to  help  her. 


READY    FOR   WORK   AGAIN          329 

"  Any  more  letters  to  read  ?  "  asked  the  other  after 
a  pause. 

" One  from  Lulu.     Would  you  care  to  hear  that?" 

"  You  know  I  would,"  he  answered.  "  Lulu  is  al- 
ways worth  hearing." 

Lulu  had  gone  to  stay  with  her  brother  until  school 
should  open  again,  and  Harold's  affairs  and  successes 
filled  a  good  portion  of  the  letter.  But  there  were 
reminiscences  of  the  summer  and  grateful  words  for 
the  Brooke  family. 

"  She  doesn't  gush,"  he  commented  when  Dorothy 
had  finished.  "  I  hate  gush." 

His  sister  watched  his  face  as  she  folded  up  the  let- 
ter again,  and  smiled  as  she  answered  that  Lulu  was 
not  of  the  gushing  kind. 

"Would  you  like  to  hear  what  Pell-Mell  writes  of 
her  step-mother  ?  "  she  asked  a  moment  later. 

"Try  me,"  he  returned  briskly. 

"  Pell-Mell  said  to  me  before  she  left  here,"  added 
Dorothy,  "  that  not  to  treat  her  father's  wife  with  re- 
spect and  kindness  would  prove  Priscy  herself  'no 
lady  and  a  very  poor  Christian ' ! " 

"  That's  fine ! "  laughed  Rex.  "  I  hope  she  lives  up 
to  it!" 

"This  is  what  she  writes: 

" '  My  step-mother  is  a  lady,  although  she's  a  bit  stiff 
about  it;  and  she  is  really  kind  to  me.  I  believe  she 
half  likes  me  myself  as  well  as  appreciating  the  liveli- 
ness of  young  company  in  a  house.  You  see,  I've  just 
discovered  a  papa,  and  he  is  so  very  charming  that  I 
can't  help  being  happy  the  whole  day  long;  and  I  be- 


330      DOROTHY    BROOKE'S    VACATION 

have  as  well  as  I  can — you  know  just  how  well  that  is, 
Dorothy.  Yesterday  papa  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Burn- 
ham  full  of  compliments  for  his  skill  and  daring  in  the 
balloon  and  for  the  scientific  facts  he  had  recorded 
there.  And  what  do  you  think,  Dorothy,  papa-  said 
when  he  read  it  to  me — that  Mr.  Burnham  was  wel- 
come to  the  praise,  since  he  himself  had  won  the 
daughter !  'He  often  speaks  of  you.  We  all  want  to 
see  you  here  some  day.' ' 

"  She's  a  little  brick !  "  commented  Rex.  "  Any 
more  letters  for  me  ?  Or  are  the  others  all  private  ?  " 

As  she  surprised  a  look  of  teasing  in  her  brother's 
eyes,  she  met  it  with  an  outstretched  hand. 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  see  this  one  from  Ned  Long- 
ley?"  she  said.  "Read  it  yourself.  I  know  you'll 
never  betray  the  plots  we've  been  concocting.  We  went 
over  them  together  while  he  and  Grace  were  here 
with  their  mother.  Now  he  suggests  some  changes, 
and  wants  my  judgment  on  them." 

But  her  brother  was  already  deep  in  the  letter.  He 
liked  the  tone  of  it;  it  was  that  of  comradeship.  The 
suggestions  were  of  real  work  and  not  a  mere  vehicle 
for  the  expression  of  personal  feeling.  Yet  there  was 
a  strong  personal  undercurrent  of  respect  and  con- 
fidence. 

"  Longley's  a  fine  fellow ! "  he  commented. 

"  I'm  glad  you  like  one  another,"  said  Dorothy. 

As  Rex  rose  to  go,  he  stood  looking  down  upon  the 
beautiful  face  upturned  to  his. 

"You  look  as  comfortable  as  if  lying  in  a  ham- 
mock were  the  end  of  existence,"  he  said  with  a  smile. 


READY    FOR   WORK  AGAIN          331 

"Do  you  remember  that  school  comes  next  week? 
Are  you  ready  for  it?" 

She  lifted  her  head  alertly  and  smiled  back  at  him 
as  she  answered :  "  I've  had  a  delightful  vacation, 
Rex;  and  now  I'm  all  ready  for  work  again." 


Dorothy  Brooke's  School  Days 

BY 

FRANCES   CAMPBELL  SPARHAWK 
Cloth.    8vo.    $1.50.    Illustrations  by  Frank  T.  Merrill 


"  A  spirited,  wholesome  story,  which  every  wide-awake  girl  will  enjoy.  The 
heroine,  Dorothy,  is  always  honest  and  true  and  interesting,  though  carrying  out 
her  impulsive  plans  in  a  novel  and  sometimes  headstrong  way." 

—  ELIZABETH  MKRRITT  GOSSE  in  Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

"  I  don't  suppose  the  '  school  girl '  ever  dies  out  of  the  heart,  however  many 
years  we  may  live  beyond  that  strenuous  period.  As  to  the  bird  part  of  the 
story,  I  was,  of  course,  particularly  interested,  and  I  congratulate  Miss  Sparhawk 
on  a  very  clever  plot  and  also  on  what  so  very  few  achieve,  a  truthful  account 
of  the  habits  of  the  several  birds  mentioned." —  MRS.  OLIVE  THORNE  MILLER. 

11  Dorothy  Brooke  is  a  lovable  school  girl  with  a  heart  large  enough  to  take  in 
not  only  her  schoolmates,  but  also  the  birds.  .  .  .  The  story  is  one  that  should 
be  in  every  school  library."  —  MR.  WILLIAM  DUTCHER  (President  National 
Audubon  Society)  in  Bird  Lore. 

"  Much  of  the  charm  that  has  made  Miss  Alcott's  stories  dear  to  the  hearts 
of  two  or  three  generations  of  girls  is  in  a  beautiful  new  story  by  Miss  Sparhawk. 
Girls,  and  girls'  mothers,  will  be  equally  glad  to  get  hold  of  '  Dorothy  Brooke's 
School  Days.'  .  .  .  The  story  is  perhaps  the  best  girls'  story  in  a  decade."  — 
San  Francisco  Globe 

"  A  graphic  picture  of  school  girl  life.  The  characters  are  well  drawn  and  con- 
sistent. Dorothy  is  charming;  so  also  are  Lulu  and  Pell-Mell.  I  like  the  book 
very  much.  Its  moral  influence  is  of  the  best."  —  WILLIAM  A.  MOWRY,  LL.D. 

"  I've  read  all  the  author  cared  to  tell  about  Dorothy,  and  was  sorry  there 
was  no  more  of  it  Indeed,  I  begin  to  think  there  is  more  of  it." 

—  AARON  MARTIN  CRANE. 

"A  most  beautiful  story;  a  book  one  would  like  to  place  in  the  hands  of 
every  girl  in  the  land."  —  NIXON  WATERMAN. 

"  The  book  is  an  inspiring  one,  showing  what  one  girl  can  accomplish  by  tact, 
large-heartedness  and  good  nature."  —  Somerville  (Mass.)  Journal. 

"  Full  of  the  fun,  frolic  and  tragedies  of  school  days."  —  Los  Angeles  Times. 


THOMAS  Y.  CROWELL  &  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


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